


Stranger in a Strange Land

by Mithen



Category: DCU Animated
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, Alternate History, Culture Shock, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-09
Updated: 2012-01-09
Packaged: 2017-11-14 20:32:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 27,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/519242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mithen/pseuds/Mithen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kal-El of Krypton arrives on Earth as an adult.  To the Justice League's surprise, Batman volunteers to introduce him to human ways.  There's an immediate bond between the two men, but cultural differences and miscommunication complicate their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shared Pain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [prince0froses](https://archiveofourown.org/users/prince0froses/gifts).



_ Shared pain is lessened, shared joy increased. --Spider Robinson _

Batman released his grapple and landed lightly on the ground next to Green Lantern. "What's the situation?" he grated.

Wonder Woman answered him. "There seems to be a life form inside," she said, gesturing at the spiky crystalline structure still smoking from its impact, and indeed, when Batman looked closely at the shimmering--rocket? Meteor?--he could faintly see a figure inside, curled in a fetal position. "It seems General Eiling is prepared for any eventuality," she added darkly, glancing over to the armed soldiers standing nearby.

"Should we try to--" Flash's question went unfinished as the alien object made a sweet chiming noise, almost at the limits of human hearing, and started to unfold its spikes like a tesseract.

Inside was a humanoid male curled up in sleep, dressed in white robes, his dark hair tousled against what looked like a crystal pillow. His eyes were closed, his chest rising and falling slowly.

Hawkgirl made a quiet sound of appreciation and Green Lantern shot her a look. "What?" she said, "A girl can look."

Batman held out a quelling hand. "We don't know what--"

The man's eyes snapped open, and they were full of terror, confusion, and rage.

He cried out something in an alien tongue and started to scramble to his feet, staring around him at the League. "Hey, it's okay," said Flash. "We're not going to hurt you." He put out a hand and the man flinched away, tripping over his robes.

As he fell backwards, he lifted into the air.

His arms and legs flailed for a moment, then suddenly he shot forward at an incredible speed, crashing directly into a nearby building. Debris rained down on screaming people, but the man emerged from the billowing dust completely unscathed, his eyes panicked and wild.

As the League sprang to help the civilians, Batman heard Eiling give the order to fire. "No!" he yelled, but the air filled with the sound of gunfire. Batman looked up to see the man shielding his face reflexively.

The bullets were bouncing off his hands.

He lowered his hands again and yelled something in that same alien tongue, his voice desperate.

"J'onn!" Batman barked into his communicator, "We need you here! Now!" He was moving toward the alien as he spoke, and the man's head snapped around to look at the dark, armored figure running toward him. His eyes went wide, and Bruce had time to notice, incongruously, that they were a pure and beautiful blue.

And then the irises seemed to fill with molten flame, searing into crimson.

For an instant, Bruce looked into the eyes of death.

Then the man recoiled backward in the air, clapping his hands over his face. Red light leaked around the edges like bloody tears, and the man cried something muffled and desolate.

"What is it?" J'onn appeared next to Batman.

"Put him to sleep if you can!" Batman yelled, pointing at the alien, who was still convulsing as if in pain. "And try not to hurt him!"

J'onn shot Batman a reproachful glance as he floated forward in the air, putting his hands on the dark head. The searing red light cut off and the man went limp, drifting in the air with his eyes closed, the battlefield falling silent.

**: : :**

" _You_ want to be responsible for him?" Green Lantern's frown was dubious about Batman being the best choice to introduce an alien to human society.

"The dude almost killed you," Flash pointed out.

"I'm willing to do it," Batman said, his voice level.

"I think he is a good choice," J'onn spoke up abruptly, and everyone looked at him for a moment. Then Green Lantern shrugged.

"Well, as long as you keep him from destroying any more property, it's no problem with me."

**: : :**

Kal-El looked up from the medlab bed as Batman entered, putting down the book he was reading. Batman picked it up: a high school astronomy textbook. "I have learned some of your language," said the alien, his voice only slightly oddly inflected. "My memory is very good now. And I can read very fast.” He tapped the cover, where Sol burned brightly. "It seems to be because of your yellow sun." His finger lingered on the star. "Krypton's sun is--was--a red one."

Batman sat down on the edge of the bed next to his. "J'onn told me a little about...why you're here."

Kal didn't look up at him. "It is gone," he said. "My father saw it coming. He didn't tell me he was building a rocket. When the day came, he..." Without looking at Bruce, he made the motion of drinking something and then slumping, closing his eyes.

"He drugged you and put you in the rocket, to save your life."

"My father, my mother. My planet. All are gone," Kal said. "I woke up on a strange world, with strange powers. I am deeply sorry I harmed people. I almost--" He shuddered and touched his downcast eyes briefly. "I could have killed you."

"I knew you wouldn't," said Bruce.

Kal's face was puzzled. "How could you know?"

"I know what anger and rage look like. And I know what grief looks like. I know what it feels like to realize you've lost everything and feel you're alone in the world. Your eyes were not those of a killer."

Kal-El looked at him then. "You know?"

Bruce took a deep breath. He had never told anyone in the League this. "My parents," he started, then stopped. "They were murdered when I was a child, while we walked home together."

Kal exclaimed something in his own tongue, a sound of horror and sympathy. "That is not a thing a child should bear," he said in careful English. His eyes were sad--for Bruce, not for himself, and Bruce was struck by his quick sympathy when his own grief must be so great. "How could you endure?"

Bruce gestured at himself, the cowl and the cape. "I dedicated my life to protecting others, as much as I can."

"Ah," said Kal. "What is your, what is the word? Your powers? J'onn can read minds, and I know of the Green Lanterns. The man in red is very fast. What is yours?"

"I have none," Bruce said. "Just my training and my equipment. I'm lucky to be wealthy, but I'm an ordinary man."

Kal blinked at him silently for nearly a full minute. "You are no ordinary man," he said at last. He looked away from Batman, then looked back, some complicated emotion on his face. "I do not know your customs here, but I feel that this is maybe too much too ask. However...may I see your face?" He shook his head, glancing away again for a moment. "I don't even know your name, but I wish to see the eyes of one who can turn grief into strength."

Bruce pulled off the cowl, ran one hand through sweat-damp hair, and shrugged. "Like I said, just an ordinary man."

A small smile tugged at the corners of Kal's sad mouth, and Bruce found himself wondering what his face would look like happy. "I disagree."

Bruce scowled to keep himself from smiling back. "Most people learn not to disagree with me."

"Will you teach me?"

"Not to disagree with me? Probably," said Bruce, but Kal was shaking his head impatiently.

"Teach me how to be like you."

"An ordinary man?"

"A hero."

Kal's clear, direct gaze made it impossible to keep deflecting him, and Bruce felt a moment's trepidation that was strangely mixed with excitement. This was a man who would never back down from the Bat, a man with a will of iron to match his.

"I suspect you don't need much education there," said Bruce. "But if you can tolerate me as a teacher..." He stuck out his hand, and Kal stared at it dubiously. "Humans often clasp hands to make a promise," Bruce said.

Kal put out his hand, and Bruce put his hand around it and tightened his grip. Kal's hand remained motionless in his.

"You need to squeeze," Bruce said, demonstrating again.

Kal's eyes shot to his and Bruce could see the sudden strain in them. "I don't know--"

"You won't hurt me," Bruce said.

Cautiously, staring intently at their clasped hands, Kal tightened his fingers around Bruces' as if he were holding a priceless crystal, his face white. His clasp was firm but not painful. "See?" said Bruce. "You're not hurting me at all." He added a deliberate smile to drive it home. "I'm fine."

"Yes," said Kal, his eyes searching Bruce's face. "Yes."

"When you're feeling up to it, I'll have you over to my house. I'm sure my boys would love to meet you."

"I feel much better," Kal said. "I would love to meet your family. Your...your spouse as well?"

"Oh," said Bruce. "I'm...not married. I'm available--I mean, I'm single." He realized suddenly the handshake was going on much longer than it should; apparently Kal wasn't sure when the socially acceptable time limit on the greeting was. How to shake hands properly would be one of the first things Bruce would have to teach him.

_Soon,_ he thought. Kal's hand was warm in his, his fingers strong and delicate at once. That smile was almost reaching his eyes. _I'll teach him soon._

But maybe not quite yet.


	2. Shared Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  Kal comes to Wayne Manor to have dinner and meet the rest of the family.  Things don't go exactly as expected.

"I brought you some Earth clothing," Batman said, holding out the little bundle. Kal glanced down at his Kryptonian robes and brushed his fingers across the diamond-shaped crest sewn across the heart in silver thread. "I'm sorry," Batman said to the sadness in his eyes, "But you'll stand out way too much in those. The League has told the military that we're keeping you here until we're sure you're not dangerous."

"Do you often lie to your military?" Kal asked as he took the neatly-folded clothes from Bruce.

"It's not a lie," Batman said, and was rewarded with a flash of pleased surprise in Kal's eyes. Kal unfolded the pants and sweater carefully, running his hand across the thick cable-knit. Then he looked at Batman.

After a moment he said, somewhat stiffly, "It is not the custom among my people to expose themselves in front of others. Is it acceptable here?"

"Oh!" Bruce felt suddenly like an idiot, or a high-school boy, or both. "No, I didn't realize--I'll just step outside."

From around the corner he could hear rustling cloth. "Do they fit?" he asked. He'd had to guess at Kal's measurements from memory. There was no need to mention that he'd picked the color of the sweater to match Kal's eyes.

"I...believe so," came Kal's voice. "But I'm not sure I've gotten them right."

When Batman came around the corner, it took all of his self-control to keep from smiling. He coughed instead. "I probably should have given you some directions," he admitted to Kal's chagrined face. Kal blinked as he reached up and touched the tag at Kal's throat. "Convention holds that this tag marks the back of the sweater, not the front."

"I see." Kal's lips thinned as he looked down at the sweater. "I'm afraid that in learning my English from science textbooks I have missed some essential cultural information."

"That's why you're coming over," Bruce said. "Learning through experience is better anyway." Kal nodded, looking relieved, and Bruce finally ventured to add, "Another thing..." He pointed to Kal's hips. "That item is called 'underwear,' and we usually don't wear it on the outside of our clothes."

**: : :**

Kal's eyes flicked around the Batcave, taking in the computers, the dinosaur, the rows of vehicles. "When you said you worked out of a cave, I expected something less elaborate," he said. "This is impressive."

"It serves the purpose," Batman said. He pulled off the cowl and the top half of the suit, heading toward the lockers and a change of clothes. "Give me a moment and--"

He glanced over to see that Kal had gone scarlet and was carefully averting his eyes. "I thought you said your people didn't expose themselves," Kal said into the silence.

Bruce glanced down at his bare chest, then hurried around a corner to the lockers. "I should have been more clear," he said once out of sight. "In human cultures, it's not usually inappropriate for men to bare their chests. I take it Kryptonian culture has stronger nudity taboos?"

Kal muttered something in Kryptonian under his breath. "Yes," he said aloud.

Carefully buttoning the top button on his shirt, Bruce came back around the corner. "Forgive me," he said. "Certain topics are more difficult to discuss than others. Please let me know if I do something offensive to you."

Kal managed a small smile, although his face was still very pink. "I hope you will do the same with me."

There was a sound of light footsteps on the stairs; Kal looked up as Alfred descended into the cave. "You must be Mr. Pennyworth," he said. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." He stuck out his hand with a nervous, abrupt movement, and Alfred shook it gravely.

"The pleasure is all mine, Mr. El," he said, turning to include Bruce in his next statement. "Dinner will be served soon. Master Bruce has informed me that Kryptonians don't eat meat, so we have a wide range of vegetarian dishes available."

Kal bit his lip. "Will that be a problem in human culture, not eating animal flesh?"

"Not at all, sir. There are many people who eschew eating meat."

Kal looked at Bruce as if for confirmation and relaxed slightly when Bruce nodded.

"Tim, Dick, and Barbara are upstairs and quite anxious to meet Mr. El," Alfred added. Bruce suppressed a smile at the memory of Tim's reaction to the idea of getting to meet the mysterious alien: he had turned a couple of somersaults without even thinking. Dick did a good job of acting more blase about the whole thing, but Bruce knew his ward well enough to know that he was simmering with excitement.

"I told you about Tim and Dick," Bruce said as they mounted the stairs. "Barbara is the daughter of a friend of mine who somehow managed to bamboozle me into letting her dress up and fight crime."

"Bamboozle, nothing!" Barbara's indignant voice rang from the unseen top of the stairs. "I just did it and let _you_ figure out how to deal with it."

"She's a wilful girl," Bruce confided _sotto voce_ to a bewildered-looking Kal as they reached the top of the stairs. "Stubborn, pig-headed, obstinate--"

Barbara was sticking her tongue out as they entered the room. "Takes one to know one," she announced. Then she ducked her head almost shyly, looking beyond him to Kal. "Good evening," she murmured.

Tim was pushing past her before Bruce could introduce her. "Wow, you don't look like an alien at all! The Martian Manhunter has green skin, and Hawkgirl has wings, but you're totally normal." He sounded slightly disappointed, and Dick elbowed him.

"You must be Tim," Kal said. "Mr. Wayne told me about you."

"Did he tell you he was a brat?" Dick muttered, and Barbara giggled, but Kal didn't smile.

"He said nothing of the sort," he said, shaking Tim's hand. "And you must be Dick, Mr. Wayne's elder son."

Dick's cheeks went slightly pink. "I'm--uh--yes, that's me, I guess."

"He did not tell me your..." Kal groped for a word for a moment, "Your hero-names. Is it a secret?"

"Not if Bruce trusts you," said Barbara. "I go by Batgirl."

"Then you must be...Batboy?" Kal said to Tim, who laughed.

"No, I'm Robin. It's a bird's name, the first bird of spring. Dick had it before me."

"Then what is your name now?" Kal asked Dick, frowning.

"I changed mine to Nightwing when I stopped being Robin."

"Night...Wing?" Kal frowned in thought, and then his face brightened. "What a coincidence. Nightwing is the English equivalent of the greatest Kryptonian hero of all time."

"Really?" Dick's eyes shone with delight.

"Oh yes. As a child--and maybe even when older--I loved to read of his adventures. He was the greatest Kryptonian ever: strong in battle, silent as a shadow, and wise in the ways of the heart. Yours is a name of power, Dick Grayson."

All of Dick's carefully-constructed reserve had fallen away by now. "Wow," he breathed, rapt.

"Isn't there a Kryptonian Robin?" Tim demanded.

"Well, there is Nightwing's companion Flamebird, that's close," Kal said. He was still telling them stories about the heroic duo when Alfred arrived to announce that dinner was ready.

Kal sat down at the table, watching the others carefully. He unfolded the napkin intently, running his fingers along it and murmuring "Organic fibers..." before he put it in his lap. Alfred put the baskets of hot, fresh rolls on the table and the boys dug in with gusto, breaking them open and slathering them with hot butter. Kal watched them, his brow furrowed slightly, but made no move to take a roll himself.

"Boys," chided Bruce, "You should offer your guest food before eating yourself, you know."

Tim grimaced apologetically and handed Kal the basket of rolls. "Sorry. You'll like these, they're the best."

Kal looked down at the basket of bread in his hand and bit his lip; Bruce realized he looked faintly ill. "I..."

"What's wrong? Is there a bread taboo on Krypton?" asked Barbara.

"You are...putting your hands on your food," Kal said in a small voice. "Don't you have utensils to use?"

"Some food is meant to be eaten with the hands," said Bruce. "Like bread. Or fried chicken."

"Or hot dogs or corn on the cob or hamburgers or ice cream cones!" chimed in Tim, and Kal's face went even more sickly.

"Weren't there foods you ate with your hands on Krypton?" asked Barbara.

"Well, of course Kryptonians ate with their hands before the founding of the Five Cities," said Kal. "But it's..." He seemed to search for words. "I do not want to be insulting, but--" He picked up a fork and knife, "--Did you not develop these for the express purpose of consuming food? Why would you not use them?"

"But our hands aren't dirty," said Tim. "You shook hands with us earlier."

Kal looked pained. "That is not the _point_. It is not a matter of dirt, it is a matter of...using the correct tools, like civilized people do. I just don't..." He looked down at the hot bread. "I don't think I can eat that way."

"You don't have to," Bruce said quickly. "Most foods don't have to be touched, Kal. You can skip the bread. But it is normal on Earth to eat some foods with our hands," he added. "Do you think you can get through a meal with us doing so?"

Kal nodded slowly, although his expression was still uncomfortable. "I am here to learn Earth habits," he said. He wrinkled his nose in apology, looking helpless. "I am sorry. And the food smells quite delicious."

"All we ask is that you try," Bruce said reassuringly. "Things like this are going to happen when cultures meet," he added. "As long as we can communicate clearly about such moments and stay rational about our differences, we'll be fine."

Kal still looked dubious, but he nodded and even smiled slightly as he put the basket aside. He did, however, keep his eyes on the tablecloth, breathing carefully and steadily as the others ate their bread.

"Chilled carrot soup, sir," said Alfred, materializing with a cup. "You eat it with this spoon on your right."

A quick sip of soup, and Kal glanced up at Alfred in delight. "This is delicious," he said, taking another spoonful with eager hunger.

"Don't let Alfred's cooking set your standards for Earth cuisine, or you'll be sadly disappointed," said Barbara.

"Yeah, think what a letdown it'll be if he ever has your lemon meringue pie," said Tim.

"That was _one time_ ," said Barbara indignantly, "And you will never let me live it down! _One time!_ "

"But what a time it was," said Dick. "How long did it take for you to get all that yellow goo out of your hair?"

As Barbara sputtered, Bruce heard a small chuckle beside him and looked over to see Kal almost smiling, watching the kids. The awkward moment passed as Kal savored the soup and the conversation, and Barbara and Tim shared triumphant glances when Kal wasn't looking, continuing to spar.

"So, what was your occupation?" Bruce asked between the flung jibes.

"I was..." Kal took another sip of soup, his eyes cast up as though searching for words. "There doesn't seem to be a word for it in English. My job was to summarize and report the findings of scientific conferences for a general audience." A wry sliver of a smile. "Science does not seem to hold the position in your culture that it does--did--in mine, but I assure you I was quite busy." He traced one of the embroidered roses on the tablecloth. "My mother often expressed disappointment that I had produced no heirs for my House, but my job was my life, and I had no time to do the requisite compatibility assay." He sighed, almost inaudibly. "I will miss the bustle of the Great Astronomy Convention, and the arguments among the High Council."

"Is it..." Tim hesitated, then forged ahead. "Is it true you can fly? And you're really strong?"

Bruce, Dick and Barbara glared at Tim, but Kal merely smiled. "It appears to be. I haven't tried since...since I arrived. Mr. Wayne says I don't have to push myself."

"Why do you keep calling him Mr. Wayne?" Tim snickered. "That's pretty formal, don't you think?"

Kal turned worried eyes to Bruce. "Is it not appropriate? I was told your House name was Wayne, and from what I read adult males refer to each other by their House names."

"Among friends and equals we usually use personal names," said Bruce. "So you may call me Bruce, if you like."

Kal ducked his head for a moment. "I would be honored if you would call me Kal," he said.

Alfred materialized behind Kal and put a plate on the table. "Saffron risotto with peas and sundried tomatoes."

Kal addressed Tim once more: "But it seems I have other powers as well. My senses have been greatly enhanced, for example. And I can see things in spectra I have never been able to. It is...quite intriguing, actually," he said thoughtfully, scooping up some risotto and then murmuring in delight.

"So...where will you be staying?" asked Dick.

Kal looked surprised. "I assumed I would be returning to my room on the Watchtower this evening."

"No _way_ ," Tim announced, bouncing in his chair. "No _way_! We've got _tons_ of rooms here just sitting empty!" He glared at Bruce. "C'mon, Bruce, you're not _really_ going to let him go back to that stupid Watchtower all alone?"

"If he's going to learn human customs, he's going to have to start living on Earth," Dick pointed out.

Bruce pondered, scowling as if he hadn't been hoping the boys would make the suggestion. "Now, boys," he said sternly, "Let's not be hasty here. We don't know if Mr. El would prefer to return to the Watchtower--although of course he is welcome to stay here," he added to Kal.

"I would be happy to stay here, if you're willing," said Kal. He was almost smiling again.

"I already made up the Sunflower Bedroom for him," said Alfred from the doorway. "Just in case," he added to Bruce's glower.

**: : :**

Kal took a deep breath of lilac-scented air as he stood at the library windows. "Amazing," he said. "Your world is quite beautiful."

They were alone in the library; Barbara had gone home and the boys were preparing to go on patrol together. They had insisted that Bruce stay in with Kal tonight, and watching Kal's face in the moonlight, his eyes full of wonder, he couldn't bring himself to regret it.

"I'll show you more of it soon," he said, walking over to Kal. "I know it can never make up for what you've lost, but I hope...I hope that you can learn to love Earth as well."

"It...does not seem impossible tonight," Kal said, his voice low. His eyes met Bruce's, lonely and hopeful, alien and lovely, and Bruce felt his heart turn sideways in his chest. He stepped closer, one hand lifted--

"--Bruce, it passed, it finally--oh, sorry," said Tim, unrepentant in his Robin costume but without the domino mask. "Mississippi finally did it," he crowed, grabbing the remote and turning on the television.

On the screen, the graphic announced: "Marriage Equality for Mississippi." The reporter was talking about Mississippi's status as the last holdout, historic votes, celebration in the streets.

"Marriage equality?" said Kal.

"Yeah, that's--hold on, I want to see this," said Tim as the cameras cut to the scenes of jubilation.

"About time," Dick said with satisfaction from the doorway as the camera panned across couples embracing and kissing, cheering and dancing.

"That's--" Everyone turned at the strain in Kal's voice. He was staring at the screen, his face pale with shock. "Those are two men kissing each other," he said.

"Yeah, they're celebrating the fact they can finally get married--"

"--Two _men_?" Kal's voice was incredulous. "How will they procreate?"

Dick and Tim exchanged glances. "Many Earth societies no longer link marriage and procreation so strictly," Dick said.

Kal's hands were shaking; he clasped them together, the knuckles white. "That...makes no sense," he said tightly.

Tim took a quick step forward. "What are you, some kind of--" Bruce held up his hand to cut him off, and he fell silent.

"Kal," said Bruce. Kal was still staring at the television, his eyes filled with shock and horror. "Kal. I gather that on Krypton same-sex relationships were not approved of?"

"Of course we had relationships between people of the same sex! Nightwing and Flamebird had the most holy of friendships, the most spiritual of bonds. But this--this physical-- _intimacy_ \--" Kal tore his gaze from the screen; he found himself looking at Bruce and his eyes flinched away to a corner of the room. "Your culture allows this. It _encourages_ this?"

Bruce took a breath. "Encourage is too strong a word. But many Earth cultures allow it, yes. The government of this country does. And if you wish to ever be a hero in this culture, you will have to as well." He felt his jaw tighten. "I will not train a man to save lives who might hesitate to save another soul because of who they love."

Kal winced. He muttered something in Kryptonian, low under his breath. "I thought...but you are aliens, this world is alien, how can I live here, how can I bear it? It is too much." He met Bruce's eyes, and his own were miserable and lost. "You ask too much of me too quickly." He looked at the unsmiling faces in the room. "I am not welcome here. I shall return to the Watchtower."

"Nonsense." Alfred stepped into the room, assured and in control. "You cannot stay indefinitely on a satellite, Mr. El. Get some sleep; we shall all feel more rested in the morning."

He bustled Kal out of the room and upstairs, leaving an uncomfortable silence in their wake. "I'm sorry," Tim muttered sheepishly, "I shouldn't have jumped on him like that. I just was surprised."

"It's something he's going to have to deal with," Bruce said, his hands clasped tight behind his back. He cursed himself for a fool, he had almost committed a heinous violation, he had been...he had been hoping for something that would have horrified Kal, he admitted grimly to himself.

Dick was poking at the fire, flamelight playing over his dark hair. He looked up. "Did you mean what you said, about not training him?"

"If he truly can't stomach the idea of same-sex couples, he's not someone we'd want in a prominent position on the Justice League," Bruce said. "And I don't know--"

"--I don't see as you have much choice, Master Bruce," said Alfred, re-entering the room. "Mr. El will have to adapt to life on Earth, and will have to learn how to use his powers wisely. If indeed he is unable tolerate certain people, all the more reason to not release him on the world untrained and unschooled." He looked keenly at Bruce as if he could read his disappointment and chagrin. "And you did promise to aid him," he added. "It is not your way to turn away someone who needs help."

"He's an invulnerable alien who can fly and shoot lasers out of his eyes," grumbled Tim. "Does he really need our help?"

"He is a traumatized survivor of an annihilated race who has lost everyone he knows and is alone on a planet that is strange and shocking to him," Alfred said. "He needs time to deal with his grief, time to process and accept this new world."

"He seems so nice," Dick said wistfully. "He doesn't seem like the kind of person who'd--you know, be like that."

"They usually don't at first," Tim muttered darkly, but Bruce shook his head.

"Alfred is right. Kal is dealing with a lot of trauma, and he shouldn't have to deal with demands that he be untrue to his upbringing right now. That doesn't mean he gets a free pass forever," he said to Tim's scowl. "Just that you can't force tolerance on someone. Let's take it slow and focus on helping him control his powers first." Dick looked relieved, Tim still rebellious, but he nodded eventually and they left for patrol.

Bruce banked the fire and headed upstairs to bed. As he passed Kal's closed door he heard a muffled sound, a stifled sob, and he paused, irresolute. It came again and Bruce had a sudden, heart-breaking image of Kal alone in a strange alien bed, mourning the loss of his world in solitude. Bruce's hand was lifted, almost on the door handle, but he stopped himself. He had no idea if Kal knew Bruce had been about to kiss him, but there was no way having a man barge into his bedroom in the middle of the night would be welcome.

Bruce lowered his hand and forced himself to move onward to his own room, but sleep was a long time coming that night.


	3. Training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  Bruce's extended family helps Kal train his powers, while more details of the differences between Krypton and Earth emerge.

"I apologize for my outburst last night. It was unforgivable behavior as a guest in your home. You have been nothing but kind, and I have repaid you by being shockingly rude. I hope that you can forgive me."

Kal's apology was delivered as if by rote--not the condescending sing-song of of insincerity, but the careful cadences of a speech carefully prepared and rehearsed through the night. His eyes were lowered, his hands behind his back in what looked like a ritual position.

"I need to apologize as well," Bruce said, and Kal's eyes shot up to meet his, then dropped down again. "I didn't learn enough about Kryptonian culture before bringing you here, and as a result I exposed you to material and concepts you might not have been ready to deal with."

Kal took a deep breath, still looking down. "I have never seen such things," he said, his voice low. "Men with men and women with women. But that is no excuse. I did not respond rationally, and I am ashamed of myself."

His contrition was making Bruce distinctly uncomfortable, but he still knew he couldn't let it rest there. "Will you walk with me?" he said. "I have to explain something."

Together they went out into the early-morning sunlight washing across the Manor lawns. "So beautiful," Kal murmured, and Bruce remembered this was his first time outdoors since his arrival. He reached down and touched the grass, almost reverently. "It is almost too lovely to bear," he said. "Each blade."

There was a sound of laughter nearby, and Kal straightened as three figures careened around the corner of the Manor: Dick and Barbara in pursuit of Tim. Barbara and Dick leaped forward, Tim dodged in midair, and Dick tumbled along the grass to come up again on his feet. Barbara reversed her direction with a quick handspring and managed to get a glancing kick in on Tim's shoulder. "Gotcha," she crowed.

Tim glanced at his watch. "Two minutes," he said. "Beat _that_."

Barbara waved at Bruce and Kal, then ducked as Tim lunged at her, sending him flying into Dick. Laughing, she took off across the lawn, her hair streaming behind her like a scarlet banner. Dick shared a look with Tim, then took off after her.

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable," Bruce said without looking at Kal, "But it's important you know. The reason Tim was so happy about the news last night is that it means one of his closest friends can now marry who he wants anywhere in our country."

Kal went very still, watching Barbara dodge Dick and Tim in the morning sunlight. "You are saying that Dick is...is..."

"The most common word is 'gay,'" Bruce said. "Dick is primarily sexually attracted to people of the same sex, yes." After a moment, he went on, trying not to sound tense or confrontational, "And Kal...I must tell you that I am too." He tried not to be hurt when Kal took a sudden, almost involuntary step away from him, and nearly succeeded. He looked out across the lawn, continuing: "I couldn't in good conscience keep that from you, since we'll be working closely together. If that makes you uncomfortable, if you'd rather train with someone else, I'm sure Wonder Woman or--"

"--No," Kal said. Bruce looked at him: his face was pale and drawn, but he met Bruce's eyes squarely. "You were correct, last night. A person who saves lives cannot...cannot flinch away from any sentient being. Your ways are...new and strange to me. But I will learn to accept them."

Bruce would have preferred it if Kal hadn't looked so acutely miserable and haunted at the prospect, but he nodded. He thought that would put the subject behind them, but Kal hesitated, then asked, "So then, are you and Dick...I mean..."

The question trailed off and it took Bruce a moment to realize where it was leading. "God, no!" he said. "Dick is like a son to me." He realized that he had no idea if Kryptonians had the same incest taboos as humans, but Kal seemed to accept this statement as reasonable. "Shall we begin your training?" Bruce said, happy to change the topic as Kal nodded. "How much control do you have over your ability to fly?"

In response, Kal lifted lightly off the ground a few feet. Beyond him, Bruce saw Tim slam to a stop on the lawn; Dick tripped over him and went tumbling before also turning to stare. "Flying seems to come fairly easily," Kal said, floating serenely in his cable-knit sweater.

"How fine is your control?" Bruce pointed to the top of the great oak tree that towered nearly as tall as the Manor. "Can you pick one leaf from the top branch as you go by?"

Kal's answer was a flicker of movement, and then he was handing Bruce a glossy leaf.

"All right," said Bruce, "You do seem to have the flying down. How about your senses--you mentioned they were heightened?" When Kal nodded, he asked, "Can you hear what Alfred is doing inside the Manor?"

Kal's eyes went distant. "It sounds like he is...folding some kind of cloth."

"Laundry, probably. How far can you hear?"

"I have never attempted to extend my hearing very far," Kal said. "It seems a..." He muttered something in Kryptonian. "A violation of privacy. The Kryptonian word is stronger than that, though."

"I won't ask you to," Bruce said quickly. Culture shock was bad enough without hearing millions of people fighting and crying and having sex. "And all your senses are like that? You can see further?"

"I can see further, and also see things at the microscopic level, if I focus." Reverence touched Kal's voice. "It is an amazing gift." He held up a hand, fingers splayed. "If I concentrate, I can feel minute differences in texture."

"You say 'if I focus,' 'if I concentrate,'" Bruce said. "So it's voluntary?"

"Mostly. Scent is probably the hardest to block out," Kal said. "It's...I do not believe Krypton was so..." He paused as if searching for the right word. "...Smelly." Bruce couldn't help a snort of laughter, and Kal looked chagrined. "Have I said something wrong? Is that an offensive term?"

"Not exactly," Bruce said, "But smell is a very visceral scent, and humans often don't like to be reminded of it."

"I understand," said Kal. "But most of them are good scents, on this world. Grass. Wine. Salt." He opened his mouth as if to say something else, then shut it again abruptly. Bruce was saved from having to decide what to say next when the kids came running up again.

"Are you going to practice your heat vision, Kal?" Barbara said, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "That should be impressive."

Kal's flinch was so minute that anyone but Bruce might have missed it. "We're saving the heat vision for later," Bruce cut in smoothly, and Kal relaxed. "The next item on the agenda is fine muscle control. You stay here, Kal," he said. "The kids and I are going up to the roof of the Manor."

**: : :**

"Ready?" called Tim into the air.

Kal, hovering at the third-story windows, looked distinctly unsure, but nodded.

Tim reached into the basket and hoisted a pumpkin into his hands. "Here goes, then!" he yelled, throwing it at Kal. Bruce winced as the pumpkin went straight at Kal's head--apparently Tim was not quite ready to let go of his anger from last night.

Kal grabbed it--and yelped something in Kryptonian as it exploded into a geyser of orange pumpkin guts and seeds.

"Obviously a little too hard," Bruce said, trying not to smile at the sight of Kal with his hands dripping orange goo. "Try a more delicate--"

Any impulse to smile disappeared as Kal looked up from the mess in his hands and met his eyes so Bruce could see the horror in them. "Do you want a towel?" he called.

"It's not that at _all_ ," Kal said, still looking stricken. "I am not going to eat this--" He looked down at his hands, "--this--whatever it is. It's that...well, if this were a person, I would have--" His hands tightened as pulp and seeds dripped off them to the ground, " _Rao_ , I--"

"--Hey, it's okay," Bruce said quickly to the agonized guilt on Kal's face. "That's why we're practicing before putting you in the field."

"You should have seen my first practice with batarangs," Dick said ruefully. "I turned the wall around the target into a pincushion and only hit the target twice."

"It's Tim's fault," added Barbara. "He threw it too hard," she said, dodging a thrown tomato.

"All right," said Kal with a thankful look at them. "I'll try again."

Tim chucked another pumpkin, and this time Kal caught it with only a couple of dents. Once he'd gotten the hang of gourds, they moved on to softer and more delicate fruit. By the end of three hours, Kal was catching raw eggs out of the air without breaking them and the kids were cheering him on and throwing three or four at a time, trying to get one past his guard.

Kal carefully deposited the last salvo of eggs safely back in their carton, his face serious. "I believe I am--what was the phrase Tim used earlier? _Getting the hung of this._ "

Barbara smiled. "Are you ready for your final test, then?" She waved Kal further away from the roof as Bruce wondered what she was up to.

And then she jumped lightly from the fourth story of the Manor into the air.

Bruce heard Dick and Tim gasp, saw his own hand reach out futilely in the air--but Kal had already plucked her from her fall like a feather from a breeze. Her coppery hair swirled around her and she pushed it back from her face, laughing. "You should not take such risks," Kal said, his face solemn, his hands delicate on her body as he held her safe.

"You wouldn't let me fall," she asserted with a glorious smile. "See? I was right!"

Kal stared at her for a moment, and then smiled at her: a beautiful, open smile that transfigured his face from classically handsome into breathtaking. He lowered her to the ground just as Alfred came out to announce that lunch was served. Dick and Tim ran indoors, leaving Bruce to make his way more slowly to the meal. He was glad of the moment to himself, he thought as he went down the stairs toward the dining room. It gave him a chance to quell the unworthy stab of envy in his heart at seeing Kal smile like that for the first time at someone other than him.

**: : :**

"You know what we have to talk about, Kal."

Kal stared into the fireplace for a moment before answering. "I know. I appreciate you sending the children away so as to minimize my discomfort."

"We don't usually talk openly about sex in front of younger people," Bruce said, and Kal frowned.

"And yet, all those people kissing in public--"

"Kissing isn't sex, and neither is love," said Bruce. "Sex is still a very private thing in human societies, we just probably define what counts as "sexual behavior" differently than on Krypton. And I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but it's important that we know what topics are taboo for either of our cultures, to avoid misunderstandings in the future. It's altogether possible that there are things Kryptonians do that would shock humans."

A small, wan smile touched Kal's face. "You do not seem easy to shock."

"This household has been trained to be difficult to shock." Bruce sat down on the couch on the far side of the room with a notebook, not invading Kal's space, leaving him room to avoid eye contact easily. "Start with what is acceptable behavior in Kryptonian society, then move slowly to what is considered outside the norm. Things like acceptable and forbidden partners and practices."

After some initial reticence, Kal spoke readily about Kryptonian sexual mores. Bruce had expected him to be vague and embarrassed, but Kal approached the matter with a scientific detachment and rigor, careful not to assume that just because something was standard on Krypton it would be standard on Earth. If it hadn't been such a difficult subject, Bruce would have enjoyed being able to talk to someone so meticulous and rational. As it was...he put personal thoughts aside and focused on asking questions, eliciting information.

It didn't take long for them to come to a total impasse in the conversation. "I don't understand what that word means," Kal said blankly at a question from Bruce.

"Adultery? It's...when you have sex with someone you're not married to. Were there strict rules about that?"

Kal shook his head with a small, confused laugh. "Why would there be? Why would anyone do that?"

Bruce found himself rather at a loss. "People were never unfaithful to their spouses on Krypton?"

"Un...faithful? What does faith have to do with the marriage contract? It is a binding agreement to commit to raising children in a stable and loving home together."

Bruce felt a frown creasing his brow and looked down at the paper, careful not to turn it on Kal. "Were Kryptonians free to have sex outside of marriage, then?"

He looked up to see Kal make a helpless gesture with his hands. "Bruce, I--" He broke off and looked away for a moment. "May I ask you a question about human culture?"

"Of course."

"Is _everything_ here about sex?"

"I--" Bruce blinked at his notes. "What do you mean?"

"I looked at some of the books in my bedroom last night. Most of them--forgive me if I am rude, but most of them were about sex. There was a play about two very young people who had sex and killed themselves, and there was another play about a man who had sex with his mother--"

"--We don't generally think that's okay," Bruce said hastily.

"Oh, I could tell that," said Kal reassuringly. "But even the book that seemed to be one of your holy books started with a man and woman being punished for having sex. It was _everywhere._ Every book had sex in it."

Bruce was surprised to find himself feeling somewhat defensive of the classics of Western literature. "Well, of course the urge to have sex is a major human motivation--" he started a little stuffily.

He was unprepared to see Kal's face go entirely closed and wary. "What do you mean?"

"The sexual instinct is one of the primary drives of the species."

There was a long silence in which Kal simply stared at him. "How often does an average human being have sex?" he asked after a while.

It was unclear where exactly this was going. "In a year?"

Kal's eyes widened slightly, the motion striking in the complete stillness of his face. "A year?" he murmured.

"Obviously it varies widely, and some people are celibate, but the average married couple in this country probably has sex about once or twice a week."

Kal opened his mouth, then closed it again. "Once or twice. A week," he said. "A week is...seven days, am I correct?"

Bruce was starting to feel somewhat annoyed. "Well, how often does an average Kryptonian couple have sex?"

"The goal is two children, so I would say the average is...maybe three or four times."

"A month?" There was no response. "A year?"

Kal stared at him. "Ever," he said.

There was a long silence, both men contemplating this.

"Let's back up," said Bruce. "I think it's becoming clear that Kryptonian biology is not as similar to human biology as I had assumed."

"Clearly not." Kal sounded faintly scandalized. "How did humans ever build a civilization if you expend so much time and energy on the pursuit of fucking?"

Bruce's growing indignation dissolved completely at the incongruity of the crude word on those formal lips, and he had to stifle a snort of laughter. "Kal! That's--that's not a polite word for it."

Kal looked mystified again. "It was in your dictionary. There are rude words for _sex?_ How strange."

"Just...don't use it, okay?" Bruce collected himself. "You're able to continue the species with so little sexual activity? Aren't there lots of...you know, frustrated Kryptonians?"

"Of course some couples have to try two times--perhaps even three--before having a child, and the wait can be frustrating. But if the partners are tested fertile, it almost never takes more than that."

"No, I mean--" Bruce broke off, unsure how to frame it. "I mean sexually frustrated. Wanting to have sex and not having it."

Kal's eyes widened, startled. Then a wash of bright color came into his cheeks for the first time in the conversation.. "Of course not," he said, looking down. "After the _kielnith_ ends, we are able to focus better on work and friendships. There is no frustration there."

" _Kielnith_?"

"It...does not translate." Kal stood up and walked to the window, his hands behind his back. " _Kielnith_ is the period of time in adolescence when one first becomes fertile. It's accompanied by certain...symptoms and effects. Obsessive thoughts. Distressing dreams and difficult...urges. Kryptonian youth usually stay home from school for a few days to a week during the worst of it. Once our cycles become more regular, however, such uncomfortable feelings die away and we are able to return to our friends and schoolmates with a clear mind."

"So you're saying Kryptonians _grow out of sexual urges_?" Bruce couldn't keep the disbelief from his voice.

Kal unclasped his hands and crossed his arms, staring out the window at the night. "All normal, healthy Kryptonians, yes. I saw a documentary once about those whose _kielnith_ never ended. In the medieval past they were often court jesters, freaks kept to amuse and shock. In modern times they were institutionalized if they could not learn to control themselves. It was a very rare affliction," he said softly, "One used to frighten young people on the cusp of _kielnith_ 'If you don't behave properly during your First Cycle you'll be stuck like that forever,' parents used to say."

He turned away from the window and walked back to his armchair, sinking into it. He rubbed at his forehead with one hand. "And here I am on a planet where everyone is in _kielnith_ all the time, where it is the norm. I cannot--" He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I cannot comprehend it."

"Not everyone," Bruce said. "Not everyone is highly motivated by sex. You're not alone, I promise."

Kal dropped his hand and looked at him, his face unreadable. "I'm not alone," he echoed. The intonation hung somewhere between a statement and a question, full of some personal intensity that Bruce couldn't decipher. He made a small, helpless motion with his shoulders and looked around the room as if seeking some way to change the subject. His eye lit on a plate of cookies Alfred had brought in, and after a hesitation he wrapped a napkin around a macaroon and took a bite, focusing intently on it. After a while he said, "You haven't asked me about...you know."

"About same-sex couples?" Bruce asked, watching Kal's face tighten. "I didn't want to push you on it, it's obviously an uncomfortable topic and--"

"--It didn't exist on Krypton," Kal said.

"You mean it was condemned, banned by your religion and culture, or--"

" _Did not exist_ ," Kal repeated, his voice tight. "It is not discussed in our holy books, it is not condemned because it _does not happen._ Before yesterday I had no idea such a thing could be." He looked at Bruce and his eyes were filled with something like fury. "And now you tell me that children grow up here perfectly free to mate with others of the same sex as themselves."

Bruce couldn't help a wry chuckle even under the weight of that bitter gaze. " _Perfectly free_ might be overstating the case quite a bit." He frowned. "On Earth, many different species have some percentage of homosexual behavior, but not all. It's altogether possible it's simply not an option with Kryptonians."

"You said that you are...gay," Kal said. His face was turned away from Bruce's now, his expression hidden. "When did you know you were...like that?"

Bruce huffed a small laugh and answered the question as he always did: "When did you know you liked girls?" Kal's shoulders tightened slightly, and Bruce felt a pang of chagrin--this _kielnith_ was obviously an uncomfortable topic. "What I mean is, it's just something I always knew. When I was about ten or so, I realized that all the movie stars I dreamed about were men, and what that meant--but I'd always known, really. It was just...who I was." He stared into the fire, resting his chin on his fingers. "I struggled with it for a while. Attitudes were different then, and I was ashamed, afraid. One day I asked Alfred if it was a punishment, somehow. From fate, or God." He felt his lips twist slightly. "I was...not in a good place. I'd never seen Alfred so angry," he said softly. "I hope that I've raised Dick to grow up without that sense of guilt, to be free to be his loving self without restraint."

He sighed, watching the flames, lost in the past. Eventually the silence sifted through his memories and he looked up to see Kal's eyes flick away from his face like a startled bird. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to go on about myself."

"No," said Kal, his eyes fixed on the grandfather clock as if it were deeply fascinating, "It was all quite...instructional." He stood up with the air of someone closing a conversation. "Thank you."

"If you have any other questions, or if you need to talk--"

Kal stopped in the doorway, resting one hand on the frame, not looking back. "I'll be fine. Thank you for the training."

"Good night, then," said Bruce, rising to bank the fire. He pulled the glowing logs tightly together, then shoveled ash on them to lock the smoldering coals within.

He assumed that Kal had left the room, and so he was surprised when Kal's voice came from the doorway much later: "Good night, Bruce."

By the time Bruce turned, however, he was gone.


	4. Social Outing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  Kal goes to a party under a false name with Bruce and his wards to get a taste for human society.

"What _is_ this thing?" Kal-El stood in the doorway of Bruce's bedroom, a strip of black cloth in his hands and a look of despair in his eyes. "I do not understand its purpose, nor how to wear it."

"It's a bow tie," Bruce said, reaching up to tap the bow under his own chin.

Kal's eyes narrowed as his gaze went from the tied bow to the cloth in his hands. "And its purpose?"

"It's...ceremonial," Bruce said. "It goes with that tuxedo you're wearing."

Frowning, Kal wrapped the band around his neck, then fiddled with it, craning his chin back to peer at it. "It is some kind of test of dexterity?" His hands blurred with motion, but the tie remained a mess. Kal made an annoyed sound. "You can adjust this? Then stop snickering at me and help me," he growled at Bruce.

Bruce hesitated just a moment before moving to the doorway and taking the ends of Kal's tie in his hand. "May I...?"

"Did I not just ask you to? Is there some English subtlety I am missing here?" Kal's voice was exasperated, but with an undercurrent of laughter. After a week at Wayne Manor he had started to relax enough that his sense of humor glinted through his seriousness at times, although he remained a fundamentally solemn man. He had fallen into a comfortable rapport with the kids: taking advice about acrobatic aerial moves from Dick, paying almost courtly attention to Barbara. Even Tim, still fiercely protective of Dick and eager to resent Kal, had loosened up enough to tease him now and then.

Around Bruce, however, he was still usually formal and distant. Only rarely did Bruce evoke a glimmer of a smile or a warming of his eyes. Bruce knew he should probably stop trying; Kal was clearly never going to be at ease with him.

And yet somehow here he was, his hands mere inches from that strong chin and those gentle lips.

Impressed at how steady his hands were, Bruce quickly tied a sharp bow into Kal's tie. "So, are you ready to be introduced to Gotham polite society?"

Kal stepped back a pace, then extended his hand. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance," he said with exaggerated politeness. "My name is Kalev Eller, from the city of Tallinn in Estonia. Bruce is an old friend of mine from his days of studying at Tallinn University, and he invited me to come visit your charming city." That muted twinkle was back in his eyes. "Then I shake hands if my interlocutor is male, or if female--" He raised the back of Bruce's hand toward his lips as if to kiss it. "Barbara taught me that," he said as Bruce extricated his hand hastily before it could come into contact with Kal's mouth. "She said it would help me appear more European."

"That might be overdoing it a bit," said Bruce.

"I see," said Kal, nodding solemnly, just the slightest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Goaded by curiosity, Bruce couldn't help but ask: "Would that make you uncomfortable, touching a hand with your mouth? If you can't touch food..."

He had worried the question would make Kal uncomfortable, but instead he merely looked confused. "I don't see what--oh," Kal said, his face clearing. "I'm not going to _eat_ your hand, am I?" he asked with a hint of mischief in his eyes. "In fact, I promise to refrain from even licking it. We do not have this hand-kissing custom on Krypton, but I find it unobjectionable." He tilted his head, considering. "In fact, I can see the appeal of a greeting that allows one the chance to make such a fleeting, almost furtive intimate contact." He smiled at Bruce, a little sheepishly. "Forgive me my enthusiasm. You have all made me feel so at home here, but I am eager to see more of your world than the Manor grounds." He looked amazing in a tuxedo, his brilliant eyes the only spot of color, his mouth hovering so close to a smile. For an instant, Bruce regretted that he hadn't let those lips graze his knuckles, just to feel their texture and warmth.

"You'll be escorting Barbara," he said instead, quashing the thought ruthlessly.

"Barbara?" A look of puzzlement flitted across Kal's face. "I thought--" The sentence broke off and Kal's mouth tightened slightly, but he didn't finish the sentence.

"It makes sense for you to go with a date. It'll cut back on the number of Gotham ladies flirting with you," Bruce said with a grin that Kal didn't return. It would also, with any luck, cut back on the inevitable rumors that Kal was Bruce's lover, although nothing could stop them completely. "Dick will be going with Roy, and Tim with his friend Marva."

Kal was still frowning. "And you?"

"I work best alone," Bruce said with a rakish wink, and this time Kal did smile, if somewhat wanly.

"I am nervous," he said, his voice low. "I want so much to fit in here."

Bruce clapped him briefly on the shoulder, trying to ignore the way Kal stiffened at his touch. "Just relax, be polite, and follow Barbara's lead. Don't make waves and you'll fit in fine."

**: : :**

There was a harpsichord playing in a corner somewhere, and across the room Kal--Kalev--was chatting with Veronica Vreeland, with Barbara at his side, the tactful intermediary. From Roni's sparkling eyes and high color, the conversation seemed to be going well indeed. Bruce took another sip of his ginger ale, trying to pay attention to the conversation about golf he had somehow ended up in. Somewhere during the description a particularly challenging chip shot, Bruce realized that his eyes were still on Kal, and gave up the attempt. Extricating himself from the conversation, he wandered across the room to where Roni was casting a laughing glance at Kal out of her long green eyes.

"I see you've met my old friend Roni," Bruce said, linking arms with her and smiling.

"Bruce, _darling_ , why have you kept this gorgeous man from us?" purred Roni.

"Kalev has been adjusting to the time difference," Bruce said as Kal looked down at his drink, his cheeks red.

"I wanted to be well-rested before I explored your beautiful city," Kal said.

"Well, I'm sure you'll find Gotham completely enchanting," Roni said. "I'll show you around sometime, since Bruce has been so shamefully remiss."

"I find Gotham captivating already," Kal murmured, and Roni practically preened. "It is such a...bold city. So strong and mysterious."

"Oh," said Roni, clapping her hands together, "I have someone you need to meet!"

She darted into the crowd and Kal whispered to Barbara, "Am I doing all right?"

She squeezed his arm. "You're doing great, Kalev."

"I saw Tim earlier. He introduced me to Miss Cooper," Kal said, turning to Bruce, "But I haven't seen Dick."

"He's over there," said Bruce, pointing toward the veranda where Dick and Roy were standing, lost in conversation, their heads close together.

"He looks happy," said Kal.

"They've been together a couple of years now," Bruce said. "They've had their rough patches, but I think they're going to last."

"I wonder if we'll be going to a wedding soon," Barbara said teasingly, and Bruce groaned.

"It's just the idea of a huge society wedding," he explained at Kal's puzzled look. "I hope they at least have the sense to elope."

Kal eyed him narrowly. Then he smiled. "You are joking," he said.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm learning how to read you," Kal said. Barbara nudged him and giggled, and Bruce felt more nonplussed than he probably should at the implication that someone was paying attention to him.

"Here we are," said Veronica Vreeland, re-appearing with an elegant, white-haired man in a tuxedo in tow. "Kalev, this is Professor Paul Aavik of the University of Tartu. Professor Aavik, this is Kalev Eller, a countryman of yours." She beamed at both of them, delighted to have brought two Estonians together so far from their native land.

" _Tore sinuga tuttavaks saada,_ " said the professor, holding out his hand, and Bruce froze in horror.

Kal took the extended hand, smiling. " _Meeldiv teiega tuttavaks saada,_ " he responded. Within moments, the two were engaged in a vivid conversation in Estonian.

After some time, Professor Aavik drifted away, beaming, and Bruce herded Kal over to the dessert table. Kal contemplated his options, then picked out some sweets in small paper cups that he could eat without touching. "As it turns out," Kal said, "He was an astronomer, so we had quite a nice chat." He glanced over at Bruce's raised eyebrow, that muted twinkle back in his eye. "Well, when you told me I would pretend to be Estonian, it seemed like a good idea to take a crush course in the language."

"Crash," said Bruce.

Kal looked around. "Where?"

"Crash course," Bruce clarified. "I'm beginning to suspect you are more sly than you look, Kal."

Kal gave him a look so wide-eyed and innocent that Bruce nearly choked on his _petit four_. "Sly? Merely prepared." He smiled and leaned closer, lowering his voice to a confidential whisper. "But I confess I am terrified I will have to dance with Barbara. I have learned no human dances yet." He looked across the room to the dance floor, where Dick and Roy were dancing together, a waltz. They were changing leads every stanza of the song. "They are so graceful," he said. "We did not dance as couples on Krypton. It was considered unseemly."

"Shocking," said a woman's voice from the other side of the dessert table, pinched with disapproval.

"It's an embarrassment," agreed the man next to her.

Bruce followed the couple's gaze to where Dick and Roy were dancing. Kal looked from the couple's sour faces to Dick and Roy, then shot a look at Bruce. The society couple had moved into some inventive ways to express their disapproval, gleeful smugness in their voices.

Bruce shrugged, eyebrows raised in a _what can you do about it?_ look. He and Dick had gotten used to the innuendo and slanders years ago; it was part of the _facade_ now, no worse a thing to live with than the bruises and fractures they got on the street every evening. They'd laugh about it later, but for now--

"Excuse me." Bruce turned to realize that Kal was no longer at his side, but was politely addressing the sneering couple. He cleared his throat when they ignored him. "Excuse me," he repeated. "Forgive me for interrupting your conversation, but is it not legal for gay couples to marry in every state in your country now?" They stared at him, and he smiled diffidently; only Bruce could see that his hands were tightly clasped behind his back, as if to keep them from shaking. "It seems odd to me that something that is legal should be the source of such irrational reactions." The man frowned and muttered something, his face annoyed. "Dick Grayson is a fine young man," said Kal. "I'm terribly sorry, but I cannot allow you to say such rude things about my host."

"Come, dear," said the woman, grabbing the man's arm and pulling him away with a last glare at Kal. Kal's color was high as others turned to look at the disturbance, but his jaw was set and his eyes stern.

Bruce had thought he couldn't get any more beautiful.

"Kalev!" Barbara emerged from the crowd of people who were carefully not-staring at the spectacle and took Kal's arm, steering him back to Bruce's side. She beamed at him, squeezing his arm. "You were magnificent."

"Good work," said a voice at Bruce's elbow. He turned to find Tim looking at Kal, his small face solemn. "I'm glad _someone_ is willing to speak out," he said with a mutinous look at Bruce.

Bruce bit his tongue on a desire to remind Tim they'd talked about this in the past, but Kal merely shook his head, looking uncomfortable. "As an outsider--" A glint of a smile at the understatement, "--it is easier for me to say such things than for a person with a family interest." He cast a sheepish glance at Bruce, then cast his eyes down. "You told me not to make waves and to fit in. Forgive me."

"There's nothing to forgive," Bruce said once he could trust his voice. "You acted heroically."

The embarrassment and guilt fled Kal's face, transformed into a dazzling smile of relief and delight. "I'm glad," he said simply. He turned to Barbara. "I was just telling Bruce that Dick and Roy dance so well together," he said, indicating the couple who was continuing to waltz, oblivious to anything but each other, their steps in perfect synchronicity, their bodies nearly touching. "And I was wishing--" He broke off suddenly. "I was wishing I could dance like them," he continued slowly. "So naturally."

Barbara laughed. "Of course you can dance like them!" She grabbed his arm and started dragging him toward the dance floor. "I'll show you," she announced.

Kal cast an imploring look back at Bruce, but it was too late--Tim and Marva had seen them coming and seized him as well, urging him to join the dance. By the time Dick and Roy had convinced the harpsichordist to do the Electric Slide and were teaching Kal the steps, his embarrassment seemed to have receded slightly, although his movements were still stiff and awkward. He kept looking over at Bruce as if hoping for rescue, but Bruce didn't want to embarrass him further or risk getting dragged into the dance along with him, which would only make Kal more uncomfortable.

Keeping on the sidelines was best, he thought, watching Kal's face alight with laughter.


	5. Advice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  Kal asks Bruce for advice about costumes and human flirtation customs. 

As the grandfather clock swung open, Bruce could hear the sound of laughing voices falling over each other below him. He walked down the stairs, listening as the voices coalesced out of the echoes of the cave.

"--And a cape," Tim was saying. "You have to have a cape! What kind of crummy superhero doesn't wear a cape, huh?"

There was a vehement protest from Dick, and a moment later Robin and Nightwing tumbled to land almost at Bruce's feet, wrestling and growling. They blinked up at him comically, then scrambled to their feet--Robin brushing pointedly at his cape.

"Bruce!" Batgirl looked up from the table covered with papers. "We could use your help here." Kal was gathering up scattered papers on the desk, looking down at them intently, and she reached out and touched his arm lightly. "Don't be silly, Kal," she said in a low voice.

"What is Kal being silly about?" Bruce asked.

"We're trying to choose a superhero costume for him," said Robin. "But he's being stubborn."

Kal didn't look up from the papers. "But--the first night, he said he wouldn't condone me as a hero unless I accepted …" His voice trailed off.

Bruce frowned. "Kal, if Nightwing were trapped in a building with a bomb, and needed you to take him to safety, would you refuse him?"

Kal's head snapped up and he glared at Bruce. " _Fa sharryth in--_ I mean, how could you even ask me such a thing?"

"If there were a bomb threat at a gay bar, would you warn them of the danger?"

The anger subsided into a sort of hurt indignation. "Of course I would."

"Third question. If I refuse to sanction you as a hero, what will you do?"

Kal took a long breath. Behind him, Barbara and Dick were glaring at Bruce. He ignored them. "I suppose I would...go elsewhere. If I could not be a member of your League or have your approval, I would find some place that needed me." A wan smile. "Perhaps Estonia could use some help, as I already speak the language."

"You wouldn't become an astronomer, try to just quietly fit in?"

"Impossible." Kal shook his head. "I could never live a normal life knowing that people like Robin and Nightwing and Batgirl were risking their lives to help others, when I could do so much more."

Bruce shrugged. "Then you don't need my permission, and you're already a hero." He plucked the sheaf of papers from Kal's hand. "I'm sure you'll be a fine addition to the League," he said as Kal stared at him. He fanned the papers out. "What are these?"

Barbara stepped forward. "We're helping Kal pick out a superhero costume."

Kal was wearing a sky-blue turtleneck and black slacks, and Bruce couldn't imagine him looking any more perfect. He rummaged through the papers, focusing intently to hide his reaction. "I see you're going to use your family seal?"

"It is important to me," Kal said. He was smiling now, a huge grin of pure excitement. He picked out one of the papers from Bruce's hand. "What do you think, is it better in gold or in red on the blue cloth?"

"I'm not much of an expert on superhero fashion," said Bruce. "I'm sure you've gotten plenty of good advice." _And rather garish advice_ , he thought privately, but he supposed with Dick around that was to be expected. At least Kal wasn't wearing something open to his clavicles or with a ridiculous popped collar. Or sparkly panties.

"But I would like to hear yours."

Kal waited, looking at him, and Bruce shrugged uneasily. "Probably gold, I guess. And I'd make the cape longer than it is here," he added, tapping one of the designs. "A long cape is unlikely to hamper someone with your strength. It also could offer certain tactical advantages, and it looks more mature."

"That's exactly what I was saying," said Barbara with satisfaction.

"Very well," said Kal. "More mature. I like that." He added length to the cape in the sketch, nodding to himself.

"You won't be wearing a mask?" Bruce asked, noticing that none of the drawings covered his face.

"I have nothing to hide," said Kal. "Your Green Lantern doesn't cover his face, nor does Wonder Woman." He glanced at Bruce's frown. "Do not take that as disapproval," he added. "I understand your reasons for remaining masked. And on all of you it looks..." He paused, searching for words. "Quite fetching."

Barbara beamed at the compliment and Bruce ignored Tim's snorted giggles. "I'm going to have to ask you to cover your face tonight, though, Kal," he said. "I want you to go out on patrol with me."

**: : :**

Kal's blue eyes sparkled behind the black mask as he watched the city slide by outside the Batmobile's windows. "I look forward to assisting you tonight."

"You won't be helping me tonight," said Batman. "We can't risk rumors of you leaking out yet," he explained as Kal's face fell. "You don't want people to become aware of you like that. You need to have a big first appearance in full costume, doing something dramatic and heroic, not stopping two-bit muggers in alleys."

"That sounds heroic to me," muttered Kal.

"Besides, I don't intend to do much punching tonight," Batman went on. "Tonight I'm gathering intel. Information is an important part of our job--" Kal's eyes lit up again at the "our," and Bruce gripped the steering wheel just a little bit tighter. "With your abilities, most street-level crime will be no problem for you," Bruce admitted, "But with big threats the ability to observe and draw conclusions will save you time, property damage, and sometimes lives."

They spent the night on the rooftops, watching the city move beneath them like a slow dark tide. "Noticing details," Bruce said to the black-clad figure at his side. "Where the crowds are, where the small-time crooks _aren't_ , can give clues about where crimes will be taking place later. Watch what areas are guarded, and which are hidden--sometimes the latter is more important."

Above the dark, generic clothes, Kal's masked face was thoughtful. "I see. And--" He broke off, his head tilted. "A woman is screaming," he said, his voice tight. "Sixty-two _sha_ \--I mean, five hundred yards from here."

"Let's go," said Batman. "Don't get involved," he added sternly as they began to run along the rooftops.

**: : :**

_Why did I even bother warning him?_ Bruce wondered as he leveled another kick at a man with a bandanna tied across his face, feeling the solid presence of Kal at his back, shoulderblades almost touching. The fight had been under control, only ten to one, but after three minutes of combat Batman hadn't been surprised to see a second shadowy figure drop from the rooftop and join the fray. He heard the last attacker go down with a grunt and turned to see Kal helping the woman to her feet. She stared at them both, her eyes wide, thanking them through chattering teeth.

Bruce waited until they were safely back on a rooftop to turn on Kal. "I _told_ you--" he grated, but stopped abruptly at the look in Kal's half-hidden eyes.

"You were _magnificent_ ," Kal breathed. "I couldn't just stand here and watch you! The way you fight--it's like epic poetry, like the purest science, it's--" He stammered to a halt, rubbed the back of his head. "I couldn't not join you," he finished quietly. "And I was very careful not to use my powers at all," he added, apologetic. "I know you told me to stay here. I'm sorry."

Batman shrugged, not meeting his eyes. "I guess I wouldn't want you to be the kind of man who wasn't willing to jump in when there was a chance to help."

"It felt good," said Kal as they started to move again. "Fighting by your side."

Bruce didn't quite trust himself to answer that, so the strangely comfortable silence remained until they were back in the Batmobile.

**: : :**

The Batmobile lurched slightly as Batman's hands twitched on the wheel. _"What?"_ he said sharply.

"Was Miss Vreeland attempting to invite me to sexual intercourse at the party last night?"

" _No!_ I mean, yes, sort of, but nothing so blunt, she was...she was just flirting."

Kal sighed as he peeled the black mask from his face, turning it over in his hands. "I believe I need your advice."

" _My_ advice?"

"I was terribly nervous last night, fearing that I would not perceive when someone was showing sexual interest in me. Worse, I was afraid that I would behave in such a way that would indicate sexual interest when I meant none. For example, do you believe I left Miss Vreeland with the impression that I wanted to have sex with her?"

Bruce cast his mind back. "No. You were very polite to Roni, but I don't believe you gave her the impression that you...wanted to have sex with her."

"And yet I am not sure. And so I need your council: how does one express sexual attraction in this culture? How would I politely turn down such advances?"

"Couldn't you look it up on the Internet?" Bruce said, trying not to sound desperate.

"I tried that." Bruce could hear the wince in Kal's voice. "The results were extremely confusing."

Batman grimaced, then pulled the car onto a side road into a grove of old-growth oak trees, cutting the engine. If Tim and Dick heard this conversation they'd never let him hear the end of it. "All right," he said, aiming for as clinical a tone as possible, "What do you need to know?"

"How can I tell when someone wishes to have sex with me?"

 _They're breathing._ Bruce inhaled carefully through his nose, looking at the steering wheel gripped in his gloved hands. "It varies from person to person. It usually involves finding excuses to touch them, extended eye contact, angling the body toward someone while speaking to them. You remember how Roni admired your clothing and kept touching the cloth, or how she looked directly at you when she was laughing?"

"Yes."

Bruce did as well, all too vividly. "Those are signs of sexual interest. As is laughing more. There's a...tone of voice that's difficult to describe, an extra lilt to it, when a person is interested."

Kal was frowning, looking out the window at the darkened grove beyond. The night was cool, and the windows were starting to fog at the edges, silver filigree lit with moonlight. "I saw many people exhibit those behaviors at the party last night, some of them toward people I do not believe they had a sexual attraction to." His shot a quick glance out of the corner of his eye at Bruce. "Forgive me, do you truly wish to have sex with that Micah Sharpley you were talking with?"

"God, no! He's a councilman, I was just buttering him up a bit."

"Good," said Kal, sounding oddly pleased. "He seemed quite stupid, and I did not want to believe you enjoyed sex with stupid people."

Bruce couldn't help a snort of laughter. "He's a dolt, yes. But those signals are...well, they're also just used to indicate friendly interest as well."

Kal made an annoyed sound in his throat. "Then how does one know the difference?"

"It's--well, it's subtle. A lot of it is based on context, and the way different cues work together."

"Such a complicated system," Kal murmured. "How amazing that you can puzzle all that out so quickly and surely."

"If only," Bruce snorted. "Sadly, humans are notoriously awful at reading signs of attraction."

"You--you cannot tell if someone is interested in you sexually?" Kal glanced abruptly at Bruce, then looked away before Bruce could look back. "I assumed that it must be obvious." he added in a small voice.

"We wouldn't have so many stories based on comedic misunderstandings if our sexual signals were so easy to read. Some of us are better at reading them than others, of course. Dick claims I'm the worst he's ever met," Bruce said wryly. "I tell him the World's Greatest Detective is hardly going to be as dense as he claims on one specific topic, but..." He shrugged. "Kids. Always teasing."

Kal exhaled sharply. "This is impossible," he said. "If _you_ cannot always read such signals...there is too much uncertainty in such a system. Too much risk."

"Some people would say it's that risk and uncertainty that's part of the fun." This time it was Kal's turn to snort. "Well, how did one go about expressing an interest in getting married on Krypton?"

"We filled out a genetic and psychological assay, and a list of potential mates with compatible genes and personalities was returned to us. Lines of communication would be opened, meetings had, and eventually a rational choice would be made based on the participants' ability to create a caring, mutually-respectful pair bond with each other for an optimal family unit."

"That sounds like a thrill," said Batman wryly. "How did you ever handle all the excitement?"

" _Be silent!_ " Kal slammed his fist into the dashboard in front of him, a sharp, short sound in the quiet of the moonlit grove. As Batman stared at the dent in the metal, Kal threw open the door of the car and stalked away into the darkness, his legs rigid with fury, his shoulders stiff.

"Hey," Batman said when he caught up to him, resting his forehead against the trunk of a giant oak. He was breathing heavily, his hands clenched. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean--"

"--You did mean," snapped Kal. "You feel that Krypton was a loveless, sterile place, simply because it lacked the endless fascination with a simple biological function that dominates life on your world. You think I can't hear the mockery and distaste in your voice? How can I make you understand how beautiful it was, how gentle and civilized the people were without the endless tension and conflict of that ridiculous and unnecessary urge? The great cities shining in the light-- _real_ sunlight, not the pale weak light of this world, but sunlight as heavy and warm as wine. Kryptonopolis, serene and majestic with its Great Arch carved from a single living gem, its minarets like stars in the twilight, and the people--" He broke off and scrubbed at his eyes, "--the people of Krypton, even with their petty jealousies and quarrels, still so centered and at peace, their lives full of creation and affection and free of the need, the horrible, burning _need_ that haunts your days and your nights. How can you bear it?" His voice was thick. "How can you bear _wanting_ someone so much, so much that you feel like you'll die when they touch someone else, so much that you lie awake at night and can't sleep, can't do anything but think about it?" He glared at Bruce as if daring him to argue. "What use is a desire that drives you to risk shattering friendships and valuable working relationships just for a fleeting physical experience? It's senseless, it's stupid, I hate it!"

He swung away and took a blind, abortive step as if he might flee into the woods or fly into the sky. Without thinking, Bruce reached out and caught his arm. "Kal!"

Kal shook his grip off, but didn't move further. His face was turned away, his hands clenched.

"Forgive me," said Bruce. "Remember, your ways are strange to me as well. It's hard for me to fully comprehend that sex doesn't motivate you the way it does so many humans, but I'm trying." Kal made a small choking sound and put his fists to his temples for a moment, pressing at the sides of his head. "But you have to understand that the system does have its benefits as well before you--you reject it so totally."

"Benefits," Kal muttered.

"Among humans, sex often increases the intensity and depth of the pair bond," said Bruce. "Please believe me, it can be an amazing experience as well as a sordid one. Granted, the--" He broke off at the memory of some of his nights lately, then forged ahead, "--the desire for something you can't have can be exquisitely painful. But that passion makes humanity what it is."

Kal sighed. When he spoke again, the anger was gone from his voice and he sounded merely weary. "I watched you at the party, using the signs of sexual attraction for non-sexual purposes. There seemed to be little joy or passion in that."

Despite his concern to reassure Kal, Bruce chuckled. "Well," he said. "It's...complicated." He started to walk toward the car once more and Kal fell in beside him, their feet stirring the leaves. "To be honest, when I do feel sexual attraction for someone, I tend to show it as little as possible."

"Why?"

The curiosity in Kal's voice was a pleasant change from the previous anguish. "You may not have noticed this, Kal, but I can be a little overwhelming." Kal made a small, amused sound. "In general, I feel people are better off without me mucking up their lives with sexual and romantic demands." He stopped at the car, resting his hands on the warm metal of the hood for a moment. "And to be honest, the pool of available mates is quite small for me. Maybe genetically, but personality-wise...well, let's just say the Kryptonian compatibility calculator might have blown a fuse trying to find someone who could put up with me--the real me, not the image I project in public. There aren't many people who know my secret, and it has to stay that way. So there simply aren't many opportunities for me to follow up on sexual interest."

Kal paused, opening the door. "Why does it have to be romantic as well as sexual? Why do you have to let someone know your secret? Can't it just be...sex? Rutting? Boinking? Making the beast with two backs?"

Bruce bit down on a laugh. "Did you memorize all the rude words for copulation you could find?"

"I can't be sure," said Kal primly. "There were so very many."

Bruce shook his head, still smiling. "Anyway, there's nothing wrong with sex without romance. In those cases I don't need to share my secret, I don't need to share anything but a bed and a good time. But when it really matters, when the person I'm attracted to is...important to me, I tend to keep it to myself."

"Then you've never had sex with someone you cared about?" There was some undercurrent of emotion in Kal's voice that Bruce couldn't read.

"Not often. The few times I did, the person pretty much had to throw themselves at me and demand it," Bruce said lightly.

Kal stared out the window at the silver-lit trees and didn't respond for so long that Bruce started to be afraid he'd offended him yet again. Why did everything he say to this man seem to come out wrong, why couldn't they ever seem to connect? _When it really matters..._

Alfred's voice on the intercom was almost a welcome interruption. "If you are available, sir..."

"Go on."

"Batgirl is here. I believe she has the information you wanted her to gather at the docks."

"Understood. We're on our way back." Batman started up the car and barreled onto the road with some relief, sneaking a glance at Kal's pensive face.

"Did Mr. El have a pleasant outing?"

"He revealed himself as incapable of obeying a simple order to not get involved," Batman said.

Alfred's voice was dry. "Truly, I am shocked nearly speechless. Usually the people you train are so very docile and compliant."

"Disregarded my instructions and waded right in," Batman grumbled with a glance at Kal that was at least meant to be a mix of severe and mocking.

"I enjoyed myself very much, Alfred," Kal cut across his complaint. "I believe..." He paused, and Bruce was surprised to see a slight smile flicker across his face. "I believe I have gained some valuable insight from this evening's events."

"Indeed?"

"Yes. I have learned that standing by watching and hoping for the best is not always enough. I have learned that sometimes one needs to abandon caution and...wade right in."

"That's the _exact opposite_ of the advice I gave you," Batman growled.

"Oh is it?" said Kal, one eyebrow raised. "How odd." With that, he settled back in his seat with the air of one who feels he has won an argument, leaving Bruce with the sense that he had entirely missed some important part of the conversation.


	6. Movie Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Kal's superheroic debut, an impromptu lesson on heroic nonverbals turns into something quite different.

Dick's cheerful face looked down at Bruce as he hoisted the weights upward again. "And he didn't take too well to your advice?" Behind them on the monitor, Summer Gleeson was doing a human-interest story on Bruce Wayne's latest philanthropic project.

Bruce grunted as he held the barbell steady for a moment, then lowered it once more. "He won't even choose a superhero name, much less work on _looking_ like one. He told me saving people was more important than worrying about theatrics and play-acting."

"Well, he's got a point," Dick said.

"Theatrics and play-acting are part of being a superhero," Bruce growled. "Not the most important part, but you can't just ignore how you come across to people."

"Maybe you can if you can fly and shoot lasers out of your eyes."

Bruce glared up at Dick's grin. "You've seen him in his suit. If he makes his debut like that... Well, tell me he _doesn't_ come across as an astronomy reporter wearing a bright-colored spandex suit."

"A very good-looking astronomy reporter," said Dick blandly.

Bruce shoved the barbell up as if he might throw it across the room. "That's another thing," he snarled. "He asked me for _relationship advice_ the other day."

Dick's eyebrows performed some complicated acrobatics. "He did?"

"Well, not exactly," Bruce amended. "He wanted to know how humans in our culture showed sexual attraction. He noticed Roni was flirting with him at the party." He scowled up at the weight. "Do you think he wants to date her? She'd be all wrong for him, even without the cultural and biological differences."

Dick's expression seemed to be caught between amused and quizzical. "Bruce, surely you can't--" He broke off and shook his head at Bruce's questioning look. "No, it's none of my business." He reached over and grabbed a towel as Bruce rested the barbell in its cradle, tossing it to land across Bruce's abdomen. "But I'm pretty sure he's not interested in Roni," he added with a smile.

Bruce sat up and scrubbed at his face and hair with the towel, still glowering. Behind them, Summer Gleeson broke into her own newscast: "In breaking news, we have reports of an apartment building on fire in Philadelphia. On the scene live is Jasper Kennelley with WPVI news."

The camera cut to a solemn-faced man explaining that there were dozens of families trapped in the building as the fire spread out of control. Bruce rubbed the back of his neck, calculating which of the Justice League was on active duty and who could get there most quickly.

The reporter's eyes widened and he stared upward. Someone behind him gasped: "Look! Up in the sky!"

The camera swiveled madly to take in--not Green Lantern, not Hawkgirl, and not Martian Manhunter. The form streaking toward the burning building was dressed in red and blue, a scarlet cape streaming out behind him.

Bruce heard Dick breathe: " _Kal!"_ and realized he was on his feet, the towel wrung unheeded in his hands as he watched the Kryptonian plunge straight into the inferno.

_: : :_

There was a smell of smoke in the air, clinging to Kal's dark hair and bright costume. He sat at the heavy oak kitchen table in Wayne Manor, his head resting on his arms on the table, his shoulders slumped. "You were right," he said, his voice muffled.

Alfred put a mug of steaming tea on the table and cast a stern look at Bruce. Bruce stared back at him, suspecting he looked pathetically helpless: comfort had never been his strong suit. "Don't be ridiculous," he said gruffly, making Alfred frown more. "There were no lives lost. You saved them all, Kal."

Kal sighed and leaned more heavily on the table. "But the fire spread to the next building. Because people didn't listen to me when I asked them to stay calm. I had to spend a lot of extra time carrying them all out one by one, because they didn't pay attention to where I asked them to go. They acted like I was a...weird guy in a suit. And because of that, more people lost their homes."

"But not their lives. Not their lives, Kal." It was ridiculous how difficult it was to find the right words to say.

Kal's shoulders were shaking slightly--with reaction, with shock, Bruce didn't know. The tremor in the steely muscles, the shiver in the red cloth, tore at him. Without thinking, he put his hand on that quivering shoulder, gave it a gentle shake. "You did great," he said.

As soon as he felt the warm cloth under his fingers he braced himself for Kal's flinch. But Kal merely took a deep, ragged breath and didn't pull away. If Bruce didn't know better, in fact, he could have sworn Kal was nearly leaning into his touch. He rubbed the shoulder in circular, soothing motions, making meaningless sounds.

"I was so afraid," mumbled Kal into the table. "So afraid someone would die. That I would fail--everyone. There was a little boy there, a boy with big blue eyes, and the--the hem of his jacket caught on fire, and I thought--I thought--"

It was intolerable, this need to make him stop saying such things. Bruce put his arm around Kal's shoulders and squeezed as if he could halt the flow of words. "You saved him," he whispered. "You saved them all."

Kal reached up and gripped Bruce's hand like it was a lifeline for a moment, his shoulders rigid. Then he sighed and some of the tension seemed to go out of his body. He turned his face to Bruce and managed a weak smile. "Thank you. But you were right, I need to be...more than an unemployed astronomy reporter who can fly. I need to _look_ like a hero. Even if I don't feel like one," he said, letting go of Bruce's hand.

Bruce nodded. "Very well. Change your clothes and shower and we'll start our lesson." He couldn't resist grinning at Kal. "And I'll have Alfred make us some popcorn," he added.

**: : :**

Bruce came into the living room an hour later to find Kal sitting on the couch, rubbing at his damp hair with a towel--and wearing nothing but a white terrycloth bathrobe.

Bruce almost backed out of the room, but Kal looked up and smiled from under his tousled hair, so there was nothing for it but to keep moving forward. Besides, Kal didn't look uncomfortable or embarrassed at all. And when Bruce thought about it, why should he? The robe covered more of him than most clothing, and certainly revealed less than the skintight costume he'd just been in. It was only Bruce's cultural conditioning that made wearing a bathrobe so...intimate. Only cultural norms that meant he was forcibly reminded that underneath that soft white cloth was nothing but damp, bare skin, that only moments ago there had been nothing on that skin but water...

Bruce handed Kal the stack of DVDs, trying not to stare and mostly--he hoped--succeeding.

Kal picked up one of the rectangular boxes and peered at the sepia-toned picture of a man with a rapier on the cover. _"The Sea Hawk_ "? He ran his finger down the stack, reading off the titles: " _Robin Hood, The Prince of Foxes, The Prisoner of Zenda, The Charge of the Light Brigade, The Scarlet Pimpernel, The Three Musketeers..._ What are these?"

"These," said Bruce, "Are your texts for our course in heroic nonverbals." He took out the disc for _Scarlet Pimpernel_ , spinning it once. "Leslie Howard is a good introduction; Flynn and Fairbanks are for advanced scholars only."

Kal frowned as the opening scene unfolded. "But this is fiction," he said. "How can a fantasy help me?"

"You have to understand," Bruce said as the Scarlet Pimpernel engineered his first daring prison break, "That Batman and Flash and Wonder Woman--they're all fantasies as well. They're fantasies of bravery, of heroism. They're shining dreams of a flawless, incorruptible person who will show us the way."

"I'm not flawless," said Kal, his color high. "I'm not flawless...at all."

"Whereas I, of course, am perfection incarnate," Bruce smirked. Kal tilted his head as if he weren't quite sure Bruce was joking, his brow furrowed. "Of course not," Bruce went on hastily. "But when I put on the cape and cowl, I tap into that dream of perfection, I use it to help others. So can you. These movies--" He nodded at the screen, "--Are the foundation of that dream."

Kal's frown didn't go away, but he watched the movie unfold intently. Bruce sneaked looks at his profile, watching his dubious look slowly melt away into rapt attention, until he was leaning forward on the couch, his eyes shining. When Bruce hit "pause" Kal murmured protest: "But he was just about to--oh, hello, Alfred."

Alfred showed no signs of being startled that Kal was curled up on the couch in nothing but a bathrobe, of course, as he put a large yellow bowl of chipped porcelain on the coffee table in front of them. Bruce always kind of meant to buy a different popcorn bowl, but he'd been using this one since Dick was a little boy and it held more fond memories than it did popcorn at this point. Alfred held out a pair of chopsticks to Kal with a smile and a small bow, and Bruce slapped his forehead.

"I'm sorry, Kal, popcorn is usually a finger food. I totally forgot. I'm pretty sure you can manage it with the chopsticks, though." Kal had become quite dexterous in the use of chopsticks over the last couple of weeks to consume foods meant for the hands.

Kal extracted a piece from the fluffy mass and put in his mouth. "It's very good," he said, reaching for another. "Thank you, Alfred."

Bruce re-started the movie and they made their way toward Percy's inevitable showdown with Chauvelin. Kal was so engrossed in the movie that he didn't seem to realize that his bathrobe sash had loosened slightly and he was revealing a startling amount of leg, well up his thigh. Bruce kept waiting for him to notice and to tug it shut once more, but that long expanse of skin remained available for viewing, and Bruce was completely unable to keep from staring. The muscles were clearly-defined against the bright, clean skin. _That's the vastus intermedius_ , Bruce thought in a desperate attempt to keep his mind focused. _Vastus lateralis, rectus femorus..._ It wasn't working. God, he was beautiful. Beautiful and brave and alone and he would be horrified to know what Bruce dreamed of doing to him. Bruce dragged his eyes back to the movie, re-arranging his position and praying Kal wouldn't notice his arousal or realize what it was.

The credits were rolling. He'd seen nothing of the last confrontation or the final clinch. Kal sighed happily as the last names rolled off the screen. "That was...exciting," he said.

"Very," said Bruce fervently. He grabbed the next movie and put it in. "I think you might be ready for some Fairbanks now. _The Three Musketeers_ \--the classic 1921 version. This one's a silent film, so the physical action is even more important."

Kal reached for the chopsticks as the opening credits rolled, then paused and put them back down. With infinite care, he plucked one piece of popcorn from the bowl with his bare fingers and put it in his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully, then swallowed. "That wasn't so bad." A faint smile flickered across his face at Bruce's expression. "I've been thinking I'd better get used to some of your peoples' barbaric customs," he said, the undercurrent of laughter in his voice robbing the words of any insult.

"You don't have to--"

"--I want to fit in," said Kal firmly. He reached out and took another piece of popcorn with less hesitation, placed it in his mouth.

"Fitting in doesn't mean you have to abandon Kryptonian culture," Bruce protested.

Kal looked at him, his eyes very serious. "I will never forget Krypton. But I will not cling blindly to customs and ways that are not essential...or which are not true to who I am," he added. He took another piece of popcorn from the bowl and, his gaze still on Bruce, put it in his mouth.

As Bruce watched, unable to look away, the tip of his tongue darted out and touched his thumb, a brief flash of pink.

Bruce stood up so quickly he almost upset the coffee table. "Excuse me for a moment," he said. "I need to--to check on something in the cave," he announced. "Keep studying the movie, especially how D'Artagnan wins over the musketeers. I'll be back soon."

The damp, chill air of the cave dissipated the worst of Bruce's alarming ardor; running a half hour of diagnostics on the computer almost managed to drag his thoughts away from the image of Kal lounging tousled and relaxed on the couch. Almost. He touched a button on the console: "Nightwing. Do you need any help on patrol?"

"No thanks, B, we're set out here. Everything's under control." Was that an edge of laughter to Dick's voice? "Go back upstairs and watch your movies with Kal."

"How did you--"

"--Alfred mentioned you were giving him the Swashbuckling Seminar."

Of course. "Are you sure you're okay out there?"

"Bruce."

"Dick, he's...he's _wearing a bathrobe,_ " Bruce moaned.

Now there wasn't even an attempt to hide the laughter. "Bruce, stop worrying about it and go back upstairs, or I'll call Alfred and have him drag you back up there."

The call cut off. _Impertinent brat._ Bruce flipped a few more switches aimlessly, but he knew he was just stalling now. He inhaled cool, dank air, released it. He could do this. He could sit next to the most alluring man in the galaxy and stay professional and composed. He could do it, and he was going to do it, not least because he had come to respect and admire Kal. To have lost your whole world, to find yourself in a strange new culture that shocked you at every turn--to go through all that and still want to reach out to others and help them--a man like that deserved better than to be pawed over by some sex-obsessed alien. So Bruce could sit there and talk about Douglas Fairbanks like a friend and a colleague, and not like a man head over heels in--well, intense attraction.

It couldn't be any harder than learning to walk across hot coals, right?

When the living room door opened and Kal looked up at him and smiled, however, Bruce saw the folly of that analogy. In firewalking, one dreaded being burned, while here...

On the screen, D'Artagnan was being reunited with the other Musketeers. "That was _wonderful,_ " Kal said as the friends embraced. "Truly, you have magnificent tales here." The bowl of popcorn was filled to the brim again. "Alfred made us some more," said Kal when Bruce's eyes went to it. "He said he was certain you'd return soon." He picked up a piece of popcorn. "I'm glad you're back. What's next?"

Next was Errol Flynn and _Robin Hood._ Kal started laughing early, as Robin faced down all of King John's court. " _This_ is where Dick's nickname came from," he announced with satisfaction. "I see it now." He said little more for the rest of the movie, but turned to Bruce now and then with shining eyes, as if eager to share his delight, oblivious to Bruce's turmoil.

As the final credits rolled, Bruce clapped his hands together briskly, and Kal stared at him as if still lost in medieval England. "You've seen enough for now," Bruce said. "Time to practice."

"Practice? But...I'm not going to be doing any sword fighting. Am I?"

"It's not the sword fighting that matters, it's the body language. Stand up."

Kal stood, his eyes still quizzical. Bruce thought about asking him to change his clothes, as heroism in a bathrobe seemed incongruous. On the other hand, if he could pull it off in a terrycloth robe, managing it in spandex might be easier. "Okay, let's start with standing."

"Standing," Kal echoed, looking down at himself. "I think I've mastered that."

"Not at all," announced Bruce. "Your feet are too close together. They should be planted hard against the ground, like this." He put his feet apart with an emphatic _thump_. "As if nothing can move you."

"Very little can," Kal pointed out. He was smiling slightly.

"Right, but you don't _look_ it. You look like a good punch could send you reeling back. You need to look invulnerable. Make the bad guy question whether it's worth even attacking you. Make the person you're protecting feel _protected_ , like the one safe place in the universe is behind you. Be _bigger_. Take up more space. Spread your legs a bit," said Bruce, then bit his lip, thankful that Kal probably wouldn't catch any lecherous overtones to that.

Kal looked dubious, but moved his feet apart. Involuntarily Bruce wondered--not for the first time that evening--if he was wearing anything under the robe. He shoved the thought away impatiently.

"Now you have to throw out your chest. Like D'Artagnan," said Bruce. "Like you're ready to hurl yourself at any danger without heeding the cost."

Kal closed his eyes, frowning, his head slightly tilted as if he were replaying the movie in his mind. He took a breath and put his shoulders back, pulling his hips in.

"A little more," said Bruce.

"I can't get my shoulders back any more than this," Kal complained.

"Yes you can." Bruce gripped Kal's shoulders, the terrycloth soft under his hand, the muscles beneath it anything but, and pushed slightly. "Take a deep breath and move them back more."

"I feel ridiculous."

"You won't look it. Trust me, when there are bullets bouncing off you and you're saving innocent lives, you will not look even slightly ludicrous."

Kal was still frowning, but he nodded and flung his shoulders back more. This had the unexpected effect of bringing his chest almost into contact with Bruce's; Bruce released his shoulders quickly and stepped back a pace.

"Lift your chin, like you're daring the world to take a swing at you. Like Errol Flynn."

Kal lifted his head, tilting it slightly sideways without being prompted so it looked rakish and just a little arrogant. "Like this?"

"Just like that, but you need to smile. Not like that, not politely. Smile like Robin Hood surrounded by soldiers, like you have no fear, like you know what's right and you're going to do just that." Kal stared at him. "Smile like a man who knows what he wants and is going to have it."

Kal blinked. Then without warning, he smiled, a bright and dazzling smile, joyous and almost relieved.

"Yes!" breathed Bruce. Even in a bathrobe, he was a stunning sight. "That's perfect. That's..." The words faltered in his mouth; he shook his head. "Perfect." He had to get away, he couldn't stay here a moment longer without betraying Kal's trust. The door was open behind him--

"I know what's right," said Kal. "And I know what I want." He was still smiling. "I know."

And then somehow Bruce's arms were around him and his mouth was--Bruce was kissing him.

A shocked stab of panic shuddered through Bruce--how had this happened? How had he lost control so completely as to simply grab Kal and assault him like this, like--

Kal tilted his head sideways and opened his mouth, awkward and eager, and the kiss careened wildly out of control as Bruce realized that it was _Kal_ who had crossed that distance, Kal who had brought their mouths together as if he wanted it, as if, as if--

He heard himself make a muffled sound, part surprise and part something quite different. Kal pulled back, his eyes bright and his face flushed. "Did I do that wrong?" His breath was short, nearly panting. "I didn't--I read about the tongue part, but I didn't have any way to practice. I wasn't sure if proper etiquette was for me to do it first or to wait for you, but then I decided I really, really couldn't wait." He took a quick breath, then another. "Any longer."

"Whuh," said Bruce. There was supposed to be a question there, but he seemed unable to get past simple syllables. "Hhh." Apparently he'd lost vowels as well, now.

Kal started kissing him again, and it was messy and clumsy and somehow they were on the couch now, Bruce's hands clenching the edges of Kal's robe, shaking, he couldn't stop them from shaking. There was something deliciously firm pressing against his hip bone; he pushed his weight against it, his thigh between Kal's legs, and Kal made a husky, wordless sound that seemed to ignite nerve endings all the way down to Bruce's groin. Kal's hands were bunched in his shirt, Bruce could hear the threads groaning as his grip tightened, dragging him closer.

"Wait," Bruce managed to say. He was gasping, it was hard to speak. "Wait."

Kal's eyes flashed open. _"No,_ " he said. "You want this, you've wanted it since we met, I can _feel_ how much you want it." He rocked against Bruce and Bruce had to close his eyes against the rush of arousal.

He shook his head, trying to clear it, struggling not to just rip the flimsy bathrobe right off those perfect limbs. "But...Kal, you don't owe me anything, you don't have to do this. You don't have to...to prove yourself."

For a moment, Kal's face went blank. His eyes glinted scarlet above fury-tight lips. Then his expression softened, and he almost smiled. "You," he murmured. "You impossible, noble, obtuse man." He turned his face away from Bruce. "I was seventeen when I saw that documentary on Kryptonians whose _kielnith_ never ended. When I saw the locked rooms they were kept in, the rusted restraints used to keep them from running amok." His eyes were closed, his lips trembling at some inner vision. "And so I never spoke to anyone about what I felt, the...the perversions I couldn't stop dreaming of. I was alone. Ashamed. I was--" His voice broke. "--so alone. Even the _al-kielnith_ , even they never were so degraded as to desire sexual intercourse with--with impossible partners." He looked at Bruce, his eyes bright and sad. "And then I was here, and it wasn't impossible, and it wasn't shameful, and I could not--" His voice caught somewhere between a laugh and a sob, "--I could not bear it." He blinked hard, and his lashes sparkled. "There were moments I felt such joy, such freedom. Moments when--Rao forgive me--I rejoiced that I was here with you. And then I hated myself again--that Krypton would be survived only by such a perverted and ungrateful monster, it was intolerable."

He smiled wanly, as Bruce made an incoherent sound of protest. "But hating myself didn't make it any less true that I was here and alive, wanting you so much that I couldn't sleep, I could hardly breathe. And that you wanted me too." He swallowed. "You...you do, don't you? I was so sure at first, and then you were so distant, but--"

This time it was Bruce that bridged the gap, stopping the flow of words with his mouth. It was a long, slow, languorous kiss; Bruce took his time and got to know the shape of Kal's lips under his, the rich heat of his mouth, the slick trembling of his tongue. He let his hand trace Kal's bare collarbone, and Kal jerked under his touch with a muffled cry into his mouth.

"I don't know where Kryptonian erogenous zones are," Bruce whispered.

Kal's answering laugh was shaky. "Everywhere you touch," he breathed. "Everywhere you look."

Bruce slipped his hand lower, sliding under terrycloth and across the muscles of Kal's chest. "You're right," he murmured as Kal's face tightened, rapt. "I've wanted this since I saw you, furious and frightened and beautiful. But there are so many other people in the world, you don't have to--to settle for me. Are you sure--"

This time Kal's laugh had a note of panic in it. " _Please_ don't ask me that," he pleaded. "No, I'm not sure. I'm a horrible depraved freak, a genetic anomaly that shouldn't have even existed, I'm not sure I should be here at all, much less indulging my repulsive desires." He shifted under Bruce's hand with a fierce, desperate motion, and Bruce could feel the hard nub of his nipple brush his fingers. Kal shuddered and his mouth fell open in a silent "oh" of pleasure for a moment before he licked his lips and continued, "But am I sure you're the one I want? Am I sure that you're the only person I want to touch me like this, the only person in this world worth throwing myself at like this? Yes, yes, yes, a thousand times yes."

Burce knew that Kal was still sheltered, inexperienced. He'd realize soon enough that other lovers could satisfy him without the baggage Bruce carried. But for now he was selfish enough to take advantage of Kal's optimism, desperate enough to bend and bring his mouth to that tight brown nipple and make Kal cry his name as if it were all he'd ever wanted to say.

 _Batman. Batman._ Bruce was determined to ignore the voice in his head until it added, _Kal,_ and he heard Kal make a fuzzy sound and put a hand to his head. _Are you in Gotham? We have a...situation there. Report._ J'onn's normally-placid thoughts held a cyanide-sharp edge to them.

Bruce realized why as he threw open the curtains. In the distance, where the island of Gotham should have been, a vast and shimmering field of some kind curved to enclose it. He could see the towers of Gotham on the other side, see the stars dimly reflected in it. As Bruce stared, the skyline lifted upward and--began to shrink. On the side of the force field a symbol appeared, glowing: three circles set in a triangle, connected by lines.

Gotham was dwindling, diminishing until it hung in the air like a gigantic Christmas ornament, the lights of the city gleaming within. _Dick,_ Bruce's mind gibbered. _Tim, Barbara. On patrol in there._

A voice exclaimed something in an alien tongue; Kal was at his elbow, his hair rumpled and his robe askew, staring in horror out at the rapidly-shrinking globe.

 _"I know that symbol,"_ Kal said.


	7. Superman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  Brainiac has kidnapped Gotham and threatens Earth--time for Batman, Kal, and the Justice League to the rescue.

"Its name is Brainiac," Kal announced without preamble, striding into the Watchtower meeting room side by side with Batman. The rest of the League looked up as he planted his hands on the meeting table, leaning forward urgently. "It was a planet-wide AI." He pointed at the viewscreen showing the giant silver skull hanging in space, its eyes glowing a dull and malevolent red. "That _thing_ is from Krypton."

"Why did it take Gotham?" asked Green Lantern after a shocked beat. "And why is it still just waiting there?"

"I have some idea," Kal said, his face grim. "Have you attempted to communicate with it?"

J'onn shook his head. "We hailed the ship, but there was no response."

"Can you open up a channel for me?"

J'onn nodded and pressed a button on the table. "Hailing frequencies open."

Kal straightened up and snapped something in Kryptonian. His eyes were filled with anger, his jaw set, his shoulders flung back in defiance. Watching him, part of Batman's mind was distantly pleased that when his temper was up, Kal fell naturally into heroic nonverbals.

A cool, calm voice responded in the same language, filling the meeting room with alien syllables. Batman could make out the word "Kal-El" in the middle.

Kal's hands clenched into fists at his sides. "Speak in English," he snarled.

There was a pause before the uninflected voice spoke again: "Very well, Kal-El. I was hoping we could discuss this like civilized sentient beings. But you seem quite agitated."

"You," Kal grated. "You falsified my father's work, denied his theories. You murdered an entire planet--"

"--Krypton was doomed," Brainiac interrupted. "If people had accepted Jor-El's theories they would have put me to work trying to find a solution to the inevitable, wasting valuable time I needed to download and process my records of Krypton's culture. I did not destroy Krypton, Kal-El. I saved it. All of it that matters is here in my memory banks, safe forever." A low metallic humming, like a satisfied purr. "And I am now free to roam the galaxy and preserve other cultures as well. I have spent the three years you have been in stasis productively. This latest city is particularly intricate. I shall learn much from it."

"But you didn't pick this world at random, did you." It was a statement, not a question.

Again the grating, purring chuckle. "No indeed, Last Son of Krypton. I lost your trail for a while, but I tracked you here at last. I need you, you see. The last biological organism from Krypton. Invaluable."

"If I give myself up, will you let Gotham go?"

A hiss of indrawn breaths around the table. Batman reached out and slapped the channel closed, and Kal glared at him. "Are you _mad?_ " growled Batman.

"Robin," said Kal. "Batgirl. Nightwing."

"And you really think he'll let them go if he has you?"

_"What else can I do?"_

There was a crackling noise; Hawkgirl's mace tapped the edge of the table eagerly. "We can go over there and beat him up," she suggested.

"No," Kal said. "You'll endanger Gotham and all the other worlds he might have there. No frontal assault."

Hawkgirl looked like she might argue, but she fell silent before Kal's resolute gaze. Kal opened his mouth to say something else, but Martian Manhunter held up a hand. "We have a transmission from Earth," he said. "Broadcasting on all frequencies."

The viewscreen flickered and coalesced into an image of a bald man in a suit. "--too late for Gotham," he was saying, "But it should keep this alien from stealing any more of the great cities of Earth." He tugged at his lapels, smiling. "No need to thank me, I'm but a humble servant of Metropolis."

"Luthor," growled Green Lantern. "A prominent businessman from Metropolis," he explained at Kal's quizzical look.

"And crooked as they come," muttered Flash.

"We've never been able to prove it for sure," said Wonder Woman, her arms crossed as she watched the monitor with a frown.

"He is one of Earth's most brilliant minds. Perhaps now, when his planet is threatened, he will rise to the occasion," J'onn noted as Luthor explained how his invention would create a planet-wide shield.

Batman said nothing, his expressionless gaze on the screen as the camera panned from Luthor to a pylon about the height of a man, planted in the ground. Luthor gestured at it grandly: a delicate silver spike with strangely-angled spurs, topped with glittering green crystals. "And so, with a press of a button, I ensure the safety of our world where the so-called Justice League could not," Luthor said, holding up a remote.

"Those crystals--the configuration--it almost looks like Kryptonian work," said Kal, his voice bemused.

There was a horrified beat of silence, then Kal, Green Lantern, and Hawkgirl all yelled _"No!_ " in unison as Luthor pressed the button in his hand.

The camera lurched and everyone in the crowd staggered sideways as the pylon started to emit a low hum that slowly climbed higher. Another tremor and the look of smug humility on Luthor's face slipped askew. "What is this?" he cried. "That's not how it was supposed to--"

"Thank you, human," said Brainiac's voice from the pylon, barely audible over the ascending whine. "A collector's item is only valuable if it is unique, after all."

"No!" Luthor yelled. "We had a deal! You take Gotham and leave me the world!" He lunged at the pylon, but a sharp ripple of electricity threw him backwards into a wall. The whine had become a shriek, tearing at the eardrums.

"It's a seismic disruptor! We used them to destroy incoming meteorites-- _Rao_ , it split them into fragments," Kal called over the painful squeal. "We've got to get down there and stop it!" He and the rest of the League were already out the door and running down the hallway.

Batman looked around the room. Then he pulled a small device out of his belt and made his way toward the teleporter bay. It was empty by the time he got there. _J'onn,_ he projected toward the Martian. _I've got to make sure he doesn't have any hostages he can use against Kal._

J'onn's thoughts came back, overlaid with affection as warm as a summer's day. _Rescue your city and your children, Batman. We will take care of this._

There were three tiny specks of light on the device: blue for Nightwing, red for Batgirl, green for Robin. Batman hooked the device to the teleporter, made a few adjustments, and stepped onto the teleporter pad.

The Watchtower faded out around him and he was deep within Brainiac's ship.

**: : :**

He had expected sterile silence, was unprepared to hear Kal's voice like a clarion call: "Keep back!"

Batman dropped into a crouch without thinking before he realized that the voice was coming from a cluster of monitors lining one side of Brainiac's command center. A figure like a silver statue, his back to Batman, was watching them. On the screens, Kal stood before the skyline of Metropolis. People were screaming as the ground buckled once more. Kal grabbed the pylon--and energy arced through him, limning his skin in agony as his face stretched in a soundless scream, but the pylon didn't budge.

"No!" barked Kal at someone offscreen. "You have to--to find the other pylons!" There was a searing sound as Kal wrenched at the crystals, his muscles straining. "There'll be two more, at roughly the same latitude as this one. Go!" He bent back to his pylon, and a sound of anguish was ripped from him as energy crackled around him.

Batman tore his gaze away from the sight of Kal's body wreathed in blazing pain to look around the room. His heart sank as he realized the walls were lined with globes, each about the size of a basketball, each glowing with the lights of a lost world. But before he had a chance to lose hope, one globe caught his eye, and he felt a proud chuckle almost break from him. _Of course. Good work._

On one globe, a golden oval of light was projected outward on the side, the dark bat at the center beckoning.

The shrieking of the pylon and the howling of the energy field were not enough to drown out Kal's voice, rising above the cacophony in righteous fury: "I will not...let you...destroy this world! _Never!_ " With a final wrench he pulled the pylon from the ground, lightning sputtering around him in molten arcs. Putting his back into it, he hurled it like a shot put into the sky. Then he sank to the ground, smoke rising from his clothes and hair, his eyes dull with pain. One point of light on Brainiac's monitors winked out, followed shortly by five more.

 _The pylons have been neutralized,_ J'onn's voice said in his head.

Brainiac made a metallic sound of annoyance. "Very well, Kal-El," he announced, and Kal's face turned toward the sky with weary anger. "Your show of defiance has doomed an Earth city and everyone within it. Watch as I crush it in my hands." He turned from the monitors and advanced toward the place where Gotham was stored.

The globe was gone.

Brainiac exclaimed something in Kryptonian, staring at the empty place on the wall. With his back to the monitors, he didn't see the expression on Kal's face, didn't see the Kryptonian gather himself up and launch himself into the sky.

From his hiding place in the shadows, cloak wrapped around the softly glowing sphere that held Gotham, Batman did.

"Insolent fool!" Brainiac raged, his head swiveling, his eyes incandescent. "How dare you defy me--me, a twelfth-level intelligence!" He stalked the room, peering into the flickering shadows, but Batman kept moving, kept Gotham hidden from his gaze. "You do not even deserve to be destroyed by a being so much more advanced than you, Terran worm." Brainiac's flat voice held a distinct sneer. "Come out and--"

The ship lurched wildly. A calm voice announced something dire in Kryptonian as sirens started to go off. There was a sharp report; Batman's ears popped and he heard metal slamming shut to seal off some kind of hull breach. Brainiac whirled as the door to the main chamber was ripped off its hinges.

Kal entered the room, his eyes blazing with righteous fury, his shoulders knotted with rage. "Monster," he growled, advancing on Brainiac, _"Murderer_." Brainiac fell back before him, then feinted a blow at his head. Kal dodged and Brainiac's other fist thudded into his stomach, wrenching a cry from Kal.

"Do you feel that?" Brainiac said, holding his fist aloft as Kal crumpled to the floor. Around the fingers there was a faint green glow. "That burn in your organic tissues, the sapping of your strength? That is the remnants of your home, Kal-El, son of Jor-El. And it is killing you." Another blow, this one to Kal's jaw, and blood spattered the floor. "I shall put you in stasis forever and observe your frozen body and know that I, Brainiac, am--"

A singing shrill of metal, a dull _thud_ , and Brainiac was staring stupidly at his own arm, severed and lying on the ground. A grapple seized the limb and dragged it away into the shadows. And then Batman was landing beside the huddled Kal-El, glaring up at Brainiac.

"I don't like bullies," he said. Keeping his eyes on the sputtering computer, he reached out to help Kal to his feet. "Gotham is safe, Kal. Are you all right?"

"Better than he's going to be," said Kal, stepping forward to seize Brainiac by his metallic neck and lift him off the ground. "Restore Gotham and swear to restore the other cities, or by Rao I shall make you wish you perished along with Krypton."

"I know your kind," said Brainiac. "You will not destroy a sentient being."

Kal's grin was not friendly. "You're nothing but lines of code to me." He shook Brainiac, forcing a shower of sparks from his severed arm. "I will happily rip out every bit of higher memory functions you possess and put you to work for the next millennium calculating the digits of pi--and writing them down longhand. With your remaining hand."

Brainiac looked at his scarlet eyes, looked at the Dark Knight looming nearby. After a moment, he nodded.

**: : :**

"If you double-cross me, Brainiac, you'll regret it." Kal's voice was raw with pain and anger as they watched Brainiac work the controls. The miniature Gotham floated in midair, the bat-signal still gleaming outward. Brainiac pressed the last button and it shimmered out of existence.

 _J'onn?_ Batman hoped his thought didn't sound as worried as he was feeling. _Report?_

There was a long enough pause that Kal began to advance on Brainiac again, and then J'onn's voice broke the chain of agonized thought in Batman's mind. _Gotham has been restored. It is in its rightful place and appears unharmed._

For just an instant, both Kal and Batman sagged with relief. And in that instant, Brainiac swiveled the teleporter ray and pressed the button.

Kal was leaping forward with clenched fists as the ship dissolved around them and reformed into the cliffs of Bristol Bay.

 _"No,_ " cried Kal, springing into the air. But his flight faltered, wavered, and Batman ran toward him as he crashed to the ground. In the sky above Gotham, Brainiac's ship shifted sideways and vanished.

Kal was still lying on the ground, glaring up at the sky when Batman got to him. His mouth was a bloody mess, his hands badly burned. "All those other cities," he muttered. "All of them gone." He closed his eyes. "All the information he stole from Krypton."

"Oh, about that," said Batman. "When I was dodging him back in his command center, I thought these looked potentially valuable." He reached into his utility belt and pulled out two silvery crystals.

Pale light washed from his hands across Kal's face as Kal reached up to touch them with a shaking hand. "Kryptonian data crystals," he whispered. He looked from the crystals to Bruce, his eyes shining from more than the reflected light.

"I don't know what they hold," Bruce said, feeling suddenly awkward and uncomfortable at the look in Kal's eyes. "I mean, I didn't have time to check. I just thought maybe--"

Kal reached up and pulled him close, burying his face in Bruce's shoulder. "Thank you," Bruce heard him murmur.

Bruce got down on his knees and gathered Kal's burned and battered body in his arms. He kissed his hair softly, tasting sweat and soot, and Kal sighed.

"I was so angry," he said, his voice a thin thread. "Angry that he betrayed my father and abandoned my world. Angry that he kidnapped Gotham and tried to destroy my new home. But his final crime..." His voice trailed off and Bruce could hear a shiver of laughter in it, "...he also interrupted our first kiss, and for that, I will never forgive him."

Bruce couldn't help chuckling, and Kal broke into a bubble of laughter that cut off into a wince. "There'll be others," said Bruce, feeling Kal's heart thudding against him.

"Oh, there most certainly will," murmured Kal. "I'm planning on one in the next few minutes."

"Minutes?" said Bruce. "Why wait so long?"

Kal's mouth was bruised and torn and tasted of blood. The kiss was gentle, tender, but passion and anticipation shuddered through it just beneath the surface. "I've waited long enough," Kal whispered against his mouth. "I've waited my whole life."

They were still resting together, their arms around each other, when Nightwing, Batgirl and Robin came running to find them and bring them home.

**: : :**

"Thank you for taking a moment from the clean-up to talk to us," said Lois Lane, smiling up at Kal. "And on behalf of the whole city, thank you for all of your heroic effort to save us today." A crowd had gathered in front of the _Daily Planet_ building to watch the interview.

Kal smiled at Lois, resting his fists on his hips, his shoulders pushed back. "It's my pleasure, Miss Lane. The people of Metropolis have been so kind and welcoming. I'm bitterly regretful that you've all suffered because of a fellow being from Krypton." From his vantage point in the crowd--cleaning up after such a mess no one noticed that one of the dungaree-clad workers was a Gotham millionaire--Bruce Wayne noted that even with a battered, bruised face and a shredded cape, Kal looked every inch the hero.

Lois Lane noticed as well; she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, blushing a little. "After we all witnessed what you did to save us, how could we hold that against you, Kal-El?" She looked up through her lashes at Kal. "Really, though, you have to give the people something to call you. Using just your name is so odd. Don't you have something like Green Lantern, or Batman?"

Bruce wondered how anyone couldn't notice the way Kal's face lit up like a sunrise at the sound of Batman's name. Then he laughed, looking a little sheepish. "I keep saying I don't need a name like that. But if I had to choose...on Krypton we had a word for volunteers who worked for the common good, it meant something like 'humble servant of the people.' In Kryptonian we called them _cirpirrmyn_."

"Superman?" Lois looked delighted. "That's perfect!"

"What? No, no," said Kal, waving his hands in front of him in negation. " _Cirpirrmyn,_ the first consonant is more sibilant and the accent is different--"

"Three cheers for Superman!" Lois cried to the crowd, "Superman, the savior of Metropolis!"

"Superman! Superman! _Superman_!" the crowd roared back, going wild with applause, drowning out Kal's protests.

Kal met Bruce's eyes in the crowd and saw him cheering as hard as anyone else. Bruce winked at his betrayed look, and the newly-christened Superman subsided, shaking his head.

The world had a new hero.

**: : :**

It was almost midnight before Kal would stop with the clean-up and go back to Wayne Manor for the night. Dick and Tim were home already after a long evening spent patrolling Gotham and making sure nothing was badly damaged during the city's kidnapping. Tim looked up from a hot bowl of mulligatawny stew as Bruce came into the kitchen, wearing his favorite post-patrol Gotham Knights sweatshirt. "Welcome home." He grinned like a Cheshire Cat through the fragrant steam rising from his bowl. "It's good to see you normal size, Bruce. The sight of a gigantic Batman looming above Gotham like some kind of crazy demon..." He shuddered elaborately. "Let's just say some crooks have new fodder for their nightmares from now on."

Dick whooped as the kitchen door opened again. "Superman! Superman!" he chanted, pumping his fist in the air, and Kal groaned as he sat down.

"How am I going to convince people to stop using that?" he complained, taking a bowl of stew from Alfred with murmured thanks. Someone had given him a Metropolis Sharks t-shirt during the clean-up, and the way it clung to his abdomen and biceps made Bruce not even regret that he was wearing a rival's logo.

"I'm afraid it's yours to live with," Bruce said. "The people liked it. They liked _you._ "

Kal was blushing. "I'm glad, but it's still a ridiculous name."

"Are you in any pain, Master Kal?" Alfred asked.

Kal touched his torn lip a little gingerly. "Nothing major. J'onn says that sunlight should speed the healing dramatically, but I didn't feel like flying around the world just to get some sunlight. I would have missed your cooking if I had," he added with a smile. He brushed his fingers across the puffy bruise discoloring the skin around his eye. "It's...kind of weird to really feel _pain_ for the first time since I landed here."

"We'll have to install some sun lamps in the cave," Bruce said. "To deal with future injuries."

Kal blinked at him, then broke into a dazzling grin, not even seeming to notice that it tore his split lip again. Alfred clucked and dabbed at it with a napkin. "Do be more careful, sir."

"So..." Dick started with a quick look at Tim. "I take it that means Kal will be staying with us for a while longer?"

"As long as he wants to," Bruce said.

Kal took a bite of stew, then inobtrusively shifted his chair to the left a few inches, just enough that his leg brushed Bruce's, and Tim and Dick shared another delighted glance before launching into some animated chatter about the day's events. Bruce listened, savoring the stew, the warmth of the kitchen, everyone home safe and sound again, until Kal polished off the last spoonful of stew and sighed. The sigh turned into a yawn and a stretch.

"I think I'm going to turn in," he said. He shot a glance out of the corner of his swollen eye at Bruce. "Are you heading to bed too?"

"Um." Bruce put down his glass of water so quickly that it made a loud _thump_. "Yes, I suppose I'm pretty tired as well."

As the kitchen door closed, Bruce could hear the sounds of a high-five from behind it.

**: : :**

"I don't want to hurt you," Bruce said. "Your mouth...your ribs..."

Kal just leaned into his touch, kissing his neck. "I don't care." He drew Bruce down onto his bed, hands slipping under the sweatshirt. "I just need to touch you. To know you're really here."

Bruce wrapped a leg around Kal and pulled him close. "I'm really here," he said. He could feel Kal shaking.

"Feels so good," Kal muttered against him. "I could never relax and enjoy it when my friends hugged me--"

"--They hugged on Krypton? But I thought..."

Kal's lips touched him behind the ear. "Why not? Sentient beings generally enjoy contact, and after _kielnith_ is over there's nothing wrong with it." He shifted, bringing his hips up against Bruce's more firmly; Bruce could feel the bulky obstruction of their flies and zippers coming together, feel the heat and yielding firmness underneath it. "But I never dared. What if this--" A meaningful nudge of the hips, "--happened? It was too dangerous. So my friends decided I was just cold and stopped."

"Cold? You?"

"You didn't know me on Krypton." Kal's voice was matter-of-fact. "The risk was too great. I could not get close to people."

"But you wanted to."

"I wanted to." Kal's hands skated down Bruce's back to his hips, tugging him even closer. "But not ever as much as I wanted to with you." He chuckled softly. "When you took off your shirt in front of me--I thought I was going to die of fear and desire. I thought that you would see it and recognize me as a dangerous pervert, denounce me, perhaps have me imprisoned."

"I almost kissed you, that first night." Bruce demonstrated, making up for lost time, and felt Kal's breath becoming more erratic.

"I realized that, later. So much later." Kal groaned slightly, shifting his body against Bruce's. "At the time, I thought you were going to embrace me as a brother, and I wanted it so much that I was willing to risk exposure, just to touch you again. I never dreamed--never once dreamed that you might want this." He buried his face in Bruce's shoulder again, then suddenly yawned as if he couldn't help it. "Oh Rao," he mumbled, his voice mortified. "I'm sorry, I'm just--"

"--You're exhausted," said Bruce. "You've had a very long day, full of excitement and danger, and you're exhausted and injured. Get some sleep." He pushed Kal gently down onto the pillow.

"No," protested Kal. "No, I don't want to sleep." But his eyes were heavy with more than lust, his words starting to come slow. "I want to...to touch you everywhere. I want to shag with you. Get laid..." A long pause. His breaths were coming slow and even. His eyes fluttered and he made a small, abortive motion. "...Want to swyve..." he muttered, and his voice faded out.

"You really did memorize all the slang for sex there is," Bruce said softly. He kissed Kal lightly on the corner of his mouth, avoiding the ugly cut in his lip. "There'll be time for swyving later. Sleep."

He shifted his position and Kal startled awake. "I'm sorry!" Sleepy blue eyes blinked at him. "Please don't go."

"Of course not." Bruce repositioned himself, wrapping his arms carefully around bruised ribs. "See? I'm not going anywhere. I'll be here in the morning."

Kal curled up against him with a sigh, his limbs slowly relaxing again. He murmured something in Kryptonian, then said in English, "I love you, Bruce."

He didn't know how difficult a phrase that was to say for some people, didn't know how fraught it was in English, full of choked-back emotion and tangled tenderness. He had no idea.

And so it was possible for Bruce to freely answer, "I love you too."


	8. Heroes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kal continues to find his place in his new world--both as a hero and as a man in love.

The square of morning sunlight was making its way across the coverlet, inch by inch. Bruce watched its progress as it slipped toward Kal's sleeping face. As the sun touched Kal's lips, still cracked and bloody, the wounds seemed to fade away at the touch, leaving his mouth unbattered. Bruce watched in fascination as the sunlight gently erased the bruises and scrapes from the night before, a caress bringing healing in its wake. When the last marks were gone, Bruce couldn't resist dropping a kiss on his forehead, where that unruly curl of hair fell so invitingly.

Kal stretched like a cat at the touch, opening sleepy blue eyes that shifted from happy into surprised at seeing Bruce there. "What--" he started, pulling away, then relaxed slowly as remembrance came into his eyes. "Brainiac. We saved Gotham," he said slowly. "And...I kissed you," he added, looking embarrassed and smug and nervous all at once.

It seemed the quickest way to quell that nervousness was to kiss him again, so Bruce did so. Kal sighed into the kiss, his hands sliding down Bruce's back, stopping at his hips with the fingers splayed just a little lower. "What do you want me to do to you?" murmured Bruce into his ear as the kiss ended. "What do you want to do to me?"

Kal made a muffled sound and his hips bucked a little. He bit his lip, looking at Bruce. "I learned all the words for these things, but I don't know which ones are right to use," he said. "And some things...well, I'm not sure I exactly understand what they are. I stayed with text-only after looking at a few pictures made me, well--" he broke off with a small, nervous laugh.

"Embarrassed?"

"I think the word is 'horny,'" Kal corrected. "Or is that too rude? It was so hard to tell which words had which nuance."

"That's not too rude," Bruce said. "It sounds just about right to me." He ran his hands down the Metropolis Sharks logo on Kal's t-shirt, coming to rest on the waistband of his jeans. He flicked the zipper lightly with one thumb and Kal shuddered. "The only way to learn proper usage is to use it, I believe. So...what would you call this?"

Kal took a ragged breath as Bruce's fingers traced along his fly. "Um, I assume 'dick' is out of the question?"

Bruce chuckled. "It would be a little jarring, don't you think?"

"Mm. Maybe." Kal seemed to be having a hard time concentrating. "How about 'prick'?"  
"It's a little old-fashioned," said Bruce, "But not bad." He pressed a little harder and Kal groaned. "Have you ever touched yourself?"

"Ah," said Kal breathlessly. "Touched my...my manhood?" Bruce nodded, managing to keep a straight face. It wasn't that difficult, considering that listening to Kal talk dirty--even by Victorian standards--was making him hard as well. "When I went into _kielneth_ , I did it all the time," Kal said in a low voice. "It felt so good, I never wanted to leave _kielneth_ because I knew the urge would go away. And then I--didn't." His face was flushed, and although his voice was embarrassed his erection continued to push insistently at the front of his jeans. "I just kept wanting to touch myself and make myself--um. Um," he stammered, at a loss for words for a second, "--Climax. But I didn't once I realized it was perverted to still want to. I didn't often," he amended.

Bruce continued to run his thumbs along the jeans-covered length of Kal's erection, almost soothingly. "It feels good, doesn't it?" He was trying to keep his voice fairly level, but he could feel the tremble in it as he thought about how good it was going to feel, how good he was going to make Kal feel. "When was the last time?"

"The last time I, um...what's the right word for it? Jacked off?" Bruce nodded, kissing the heated, flushed skin at his temple, still stroking. "Yesterday," Kal said, a tremor that hovered between laughter and embarrassment in his voice. "I've done it...almost every day since I got here. Thinking about your voice, telling me that I could just...let go and enjoy--" Kal broke off, biting his lip as Bruce ran his thumb over the top of his hidden erection. "Thinking about your hands. _Rao_ , Bruce, your hands."

Bruce's smile, which might have been on the verge of slightly smug, slipped abruptly as Kal's hand found its way to the front of his pants; there was the sound of a zipper being undone and Bruce suddenly bit down on the smooth flesh of Kal's neck to stifle a delighted curse.

Kal murmured something extremely pleased on Kryptonian as his fingers crept warmly past the zipper, and without warning everything seemed likely to slide completely out of control for Bruce. _Not acceptable_ , he sternly informed his rioting, rampant body. Kal's first experience was _not_ going to involve some besotted, sex-crazed Terran ripping his clothes off and--

Okay, Bruce amended a few moments later, it _might_ involve a sex-crazed Terran ripping his clothes off, but that wasn't entirely Bruce's fault, he had some super-speed assistance. Kal was on his back with his jeans and underwear down around his ankles, his sweatshirt rucked up to expose gleaming abdomen muscles, and there probably was no way to ask if the average Kryptonian male were hung like that without breaking the mood, but-- "You're beautiful," he contented himself with, and let his thumb and index finger circle the base of Kal's erection, tightening just enough that Kal's back arched.

Bruce shifted to kiss Kal's stomach, glad that he was still fully-dressed, even though the friction was almost unbearable. Trailing his way down, he moved his circled fingers just a fraction of an inch in a quick stroking motion, leaving most of the taut ruddy skin untouched, and he heard Kal's breathing get more and more erratic. "Mmm," he murmured just a breath away from the tip, and Kal's hips jerked upward toward his voice with blind urgency.

"Oh Bruce," gasped Kal. "Please--I don't know what--Please--" He shuddered and made a strange, keening, beautiful noise as Bruce ran his tongue along skin that was much warmer than human.

Then he went entirely still for a second as Bruce slipped his mouth around the tip and let his erection plunge deep.

Bruce savored the soft, shifting sensation for a moment, the salty-sweet taste that was almost imperceptibly different. Then Kal dragged in a sudden gasping breath and Bruce realized he'd stopped breathing..

Kal gasped something that didn't sound coherent even in Kryptonian, and there was a real edge of alarm to it that brought Bruce's head up quickly. "What's wrong?" he asked, trying not to lick his lips too obviously.

"That's--" Kal's eyes were wide. "What was--what are you--"

"It's called a blowjob," Bruce said, unable to stifle a grin.

 _"That was not blowing,"_ Kal stated emphatically.

"It is a rather inaccurate name," Bruce reflected. "Do you mind if I continue? I was enjoying myself," he added.

"But--" Kal's hands caught in his hair as he bent again. "Bruce, if you do that, it's so good--I don't know if I can keep from--"

"--That's the point, dear," Bruce murmured before losing himself in the joyous work again.

Far too quickly--he'd only gotten started and still had some special techniques he'd been looking forward to using--Kal's back arched and he cried out, hoarsely. Bruce held onto his powerful thighs and savored the abandoned sounds he made, swallowing until Kal's back went limp and he lay panting against the sheets.

"That was--" Kal shook his head slightly, staring at him. "Is it always so good?"

Bruce chuckled, curling up next to him, letting the heat that radiated from his body soak into him. "You tell me after we've done it a few dozen more times."

"A few dozen," Kal said wonderingly, his voice shot through with glee like light. Then he sat up so abruptly that Bruce was dislodged with a thump. "I want to try," he said. "I want to make you feel like that."

He wasn't as polished as Bruce, of course--clumsy with eagerness, a little unsure--but Bruce soon concluded that a supernaturally sensitive tongue, the judicious use of super-speed, and the ability to hover more than made up for any beginner's jitters.

It was his last coherent thought for an ecstatically long time.

**: : :**

"--hereby formally induct Kal-El of Krypton, also known as Superman," into the Justice League." J'onn J'onnz's voice was formal and resonant; only Batman caught the slight grimace on Kal's face at the superhero name. He still hadn't quite accepted that he was going to be saddled with something so simultaneously grandiose and juvenile.

The other heroes crowded around and shook his hand as Kal beamed and told everyone how gratified and humbled he was to be among such company.

"I have to say, I didn't think you'd be the best person to teach him how to fit into the human race," said Green Lantern at Batman's elbow. "But I wouldn't be surprised if he became the most popular member of the League. And he seems--not just resigned to being among us, but content. Happy. Good work."

"All his doing," said Batman.

In mid-conversation with Wonder Woman, Superman caught sight of Batman and his face lit up in a smile. It took him a moment to remember that he was supposed to be talking to someone else and turned back to the Amazon, looking flustered and happy.

"Yes, I can see you had nothing to do with it," said Green Lantern, his voice dry. He clapped Batman on the back. "Congratulations. And be careful--Hawkgirl might just smack you with her mace out of sheer envy."

Batman considered sardonically dismissing Stewart's implications, but he was in too good a mood (Kal had asked what "sixty-nine" was last night) and frankly (after a night spent demonstrating) too tired to bother.

**: : :**

"You don't have to do this."

"I want to," Kal said.

"Some people just don't like it. Some couples don't do it at all. We haven't even exhausted all the possibilities with hands and mouths, not to mention a wealth of props and toys--nipple clamps, cock rings--and then there's roleplaying and bondage--"

"--Bruce, I don't even know exactly what some of those are, but no matter how tantalizing they sound, I'm not getting distracted. So stop stalling," Kal said tartly.

He _was_ stalling, Bruce realized. He had a gorgeous, nude Kryptonian floating in mid-air in front of him, demanding to be debauched, and he was stalling.

Kal flipped forward in the air like an astronaut in zero-G to bring himself face to face with Bruce, reaching out to cup his face in gentle hands. "I promise I'll tell you if I don't like it, okay? I trust you; you need to trust me to be honest with you." He flipped backwards again until he was lying on his back in the air, an alien odalisque on an invisible couch, smiling invitingly.

Bruce reached for him and pulled him close.

It was awkward at times--Kal made a face at the feeling of the lube that made them both laugh, and Bruce almost lost his nerve (and his erection) at Kal's initial look of discomfort, but Kal murmured, "It doesn't hurt. Just...odd," and shifted slightly in the air, a twisting, liquid motion that made Bruce gasp. It felt so good that Bruce almost lost himself in the heat and the sensation, almost missed the moment when Kal's expression shaded from unease into a slow-dawning, languid pleasure. "Ah," Kal whispered, his eyes half-lidded, looking inward. "That's..."

"Touch yourself," Bruce said, more brusquely than he had intended, pleasure rippling around and through him, and Kal lifted a hand to stroke himself, his gaze shifting to Bruce's face with a hungry intensity. "Yes. Like that." He held himself still with some effort, resisting his body's demands for more, for faster, for _release,_ letting Kal find his own pace, relishing the look of pleasure on his face. When Kal wrapped his legs around him and pulled him closer, it was all he could do not to come right then as he sank deep into yielding heat.

Kal whispered something in Kryptonian, his hand's motions no longer smooth but sharp and jerky. "Please. Please move a little," he breathed, and Bruce shifted his hips to set up a gentle friction, nothing demanding, a slow sweep of motion that seemed to become his whole world. He couldn't try to hold back any longer, could only luxuriate in the feelings, letting his climax build, a sweetly insistent pressure that would soon--soon--

 _"Bruce,"_ gasped Kal, and threw his head backwards, his body shuddering. Like a shock wave of pleasure, Bruce felt Kal's climax catch him up in its wake, carrying him along over the edge of his own, and he surrendered control in one of the few ways he ever allowed himself.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Kal said later, when their bodies were disentangled and his eyes had lost the faraway haze of rapture.

"Isn't that supposed to be my line?" murmured Bruce.

"You were the one who was worried," Kal pointed out with a smile as he floated into the bed like celestial thistledown. "I had no doubt that you would be the greatest lover in the galaxy."

Bruce snorted. "As if you'd know."

"Mmm. I can go do some comparisons, if you'd like. Would you like?"

Kal's arched eyebrow was anything but serious, but Bruce felt a sudden pang. "No," he said hoarsely. "I wouldn't like that at all."

"Good," said Kal, looking immensely pleased with himself and the world as he curled up around his lover and fell asleep.

**: : :**

"Is it going to work?" Tim was practically hopping up and down; Dick put a hand on his shoulder and he subsided reluctantly. Barbara accepted a mug of cocoa from Alfred with a grateful smile and sipped at it, steam rising into the damp and chilly air of the cave.

"I think so," Kal answered Tim, tapping two wires together. Instead of a shower of sparks, a surprisingly sweet, piercing chime filled the cave. "Just a few more adjustments..." A hand appeared from somewhere beneath the machine; Kal put a wrench into it and it disappeared. "If you'd like to stay, Alfred, I don't think it will be much longer until we can test it again."

"It would be my pleasure," Alfred said, setting down his tray and watching the proceedings with interest.

The rocket Kal had arrived in had been reconstructed and repurposed into something more closely resembling a computer than a spacecraft. Kal picked up one of the two glimmering crystals Bruce had stolen back from Brainiac's ship and took a deep breath. "Ready?" he asked.

Bruce emerged from beneath the machine, a smudge of sparkling dust leaving an incongruous stripe in his hair, and nodded, dusting off his hands. "Give it a try."

Kal bit his lip. "What's the English saying? The third attempt is the lucky token?"

"The third try is the charm, yes," said Bruce, with only the barest hint of a smile tugging at his mouth.

Kal slid the crystal into what had previously been the dashboard of the ship, and everyone held their breath.

There was a burst of crystalline static, a flicker of snowy light--it faded, dimmed, and just when everyone had started to sigh with disappointment, strengthened again into a three-dimensional image: a planet hanging in space, alien lettering across it.

"Krypton," Kal breathed. "Ah." There was was depth of joy and grief in his voice, and Bruce reached out and put a hand on his shoulder; Kal leaned briefly into the touch, still watching the glimmering ghost of a planet turning gently in the dark air of the cave.

After a moment, he turned back to the dashboard and the makeshift keyboard attached to it. "Let me see what's on the crystal," he said, touching the keys.

The planet melted away into lattices and fractals of symbols that swirled in the air. Kal seemed to know what he was doing as he manipulated the data, moving through it in ways that were not intuitive to Bruce's Terran mind. "Oh," he exclaimed, "This has instructions on how to crystallize a Kryptonian building. And--" a brief chuckle, "--a recipe database. Good in theory, but my father's favorite recipe for grilled Fire Fall fish-snake is hard to make without the actual fish-snakes. Let's see..." The pillars of pure information gave way to images: jeweled forests, horned beasts, cities that seemed to be made of glass and light.

"It's so beautiful," Barbara said softly, gold and violet light playing across her face.

"It's got the birth registries," Kal said, and Bruce could hear some sudden, suppressed excitement in his voice. "I wonder if--maybe--" There was a storm of typing, and the images dissolved and reformed into--

A string of Kryptonian letters spiraled through a column of space, and the light solidified into the forms of a man and a woman, their hands linked together, smiling. They both wore formal robes like the ones Kal had arrived in, but made of many shifting colors. There was much familiar in the man's strong chin; even more familiar in the woman's kind eyes. An unseen voice asked a question, and the man said _"Kal-El don Jor-El."_

"Kal-El va Lara Lor-Van," said the woman at his side. They turned as one and lifted something outside of the field of vision into the light.

Everyone caught their breath as a baby wrapped in red cloth, the distinctive shield picked out in gold, came into view. Chubby fists flailed against the light; the woman put out a finger and the tiny hand grabbed hold. Bruce heard a crowing laugh, and the two adults smiled fondly.

Kal's eyes were brilliant in the light of the vision. His hand was outstretched so the radiance fell across it, a cascade of shining memory. "The day I was admitted to the family register," he said. "My parents." As Jor-El and Lara held their precious baby up to be recorded and admitted, Kal pulled his hand back into the shadows and reached up to clasp Bruce's, still on his shoulder. "Thank you," he whispered.

Kal's parents bowed to the unseen authority and the vision went dark, the gurgling laugh of their son the last sound on the record.

There was a beat of silence, and then Barbara jumped forward and threw her arms around Kal in a fierce hug. "I'm so glad," she said, "So glad you can hear their voices again. So glad you're with us." Kal hugged her back, and it quickly became a group hug when Tim and Dick joined in.

Bruce got caught up in the whole tangle somehow because Kal wouldn't let his hand go, but it didn't seem worthwhile to complain--or to let go of Kal's hand, either.

**: : :**

"I've been working on adopting a specific American English dialect for my new identity," said Kal that night, propping himself up on Bruce's bare chest to look into his eyes.

"Mm?" Bruce pulled himself back from the brink of sleep. "What are you going with?"

Kal cleared his throat and said, "Youse guys had better all listen up when I'm talkin', y'hear?"

Bruce blinked. "I'm not sure a Jersey accent really suits you," he said as diplomatically as possible. "Although you do replicate it very well."

Kal shrugged. "It's just a matter of watching enough television featuring it. You think it doesn't suit me? Tim said he thought it would be cute."

Bruce made a mental note to talk to Tim later. "I think maybe you might want to look for something a little more standard. Midwestern, perhaps."

Kal kissed his collarbone thoughtfully. "Maybe." He sighed. "You really think I need a second identity? I don't like to deceive people."

"You need to be able to meet and mingle with humanity without them treating you with fear or reverence," Bruce said. "Plus," he added, "Bruce Wayne can't really date Kal-El of Krypton openly without risking people asking dangerous questions."

"You want to date me openly?"

Bruce made a huffy sound. "Of course I do," he said. "What kind of boyfriend would I be if I couldn't go out in public and show you a good time? You'd ditch me for someone more interesting within a month."

Kal's smile was amused. "I sincerely doubt that," he said. There was a thoughtful pause. "So...Midwestern?"

"Maybe. We'll have to construct a paper trail for you--birth documents, social security cards. Find a job that you can do without native knowledge of American culture, assuming you don't want to be my kept man."

"Whatever that is, it sounds delightful," grinned Kal, "But yes, I would like to earn a living somehow."

"And we'll have to find a name that's close to Kal but not so close as to be suspicious."

"Clyde? We watched that fascinating movie about that gangster named Clyde."

"Not Clyde," Bruce said categorically.

"Clemence? Clifford? Cleveland? Clud?" Kal looked like he was going to continue and might have memorized a baby name book, so Bruce decided it was best to distract him with a kiss.

Yes, he decided somewhat later, that really was best.

"It's a small thing, but there's something I still don't understand," Kal said much later, as they lay tangled in each others' arms. "About Brainiac." When Bruce nodded, he went on: "That day, when I broke into his ship, he was going to hold Gotham hostage against me. But he couldn't find Gotham, because some gloriously sneaky thief had stolen it," he said, kissing the corner of Bruce's mouth. "But couldn't he have grabbed any of the other worlds? There were hundreds. Any of them would have worked. I don't understand."

"That's because you don't know how beings like that think," said Bruce. "Brainiac assumed that you'd only care about a civilization you felt possessive of. He took for granted that you'd respond only as a Kryptonian or a Terran, instead of as what you are."

"And what am I?" asked Kal. His tone was light, but there was a question in his eyes. "My birth home is gone, and I'll never be fully Terran. So what exactly am I?"

"You're a hero, of course," said Bruce, pulling him close again, watching the doubt in Kal's eyes warm into happiness once more. "A hero and my love."


End file.
